And the World Turned
by herointhecrowd
Summary: They've done things their parents are less than pleased with, and they've all stuck by one another despite it all. But this summer, everything is about to change. Who do you become when everything you know is being challenged, and your best friends are breaking your heart? NextGen, a summer at the Burrow. All characters are involved, not just Rose and Scorpius.
1. The Express

**Author's Note: **I'm going to try something a little different with this one. I want to actually write something a little more substantial than my beloved one-shots, something that people can actually look forward to. So, enjoy me stepping out of my comfort zone!

**Disclaimer: **Hell no I don't own Harry Potter. Pshh.

**And the World Turned**

Rose really should have known better than to think that the adventures would end when her rather large family stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. The adventures never really ended when any of them were involved.

Still, nothing in Rose's life could ever have prepared her for what was to come.

Limping from her and Albus' latest near death experience, Rose moved silently down the hallway, checking each of the cabs like the decent prefect that she was. Students had just begun to shirk off their robes, but were still avoiding taking the effort to get undressed from their house clothes. It seemed as though, at least for one moment, all was well.

A breeze rustled behind Rose, and the scent of cinnamon and soap kissed her nose. Calloused fingers brushed her neck and she choked back a moan. She couldn't find it in herself to say a single word. Frozen to the floor of the train, Rose relished the feeling of his familiar breath curling around her ear as he pressed his nose against her hair.

"Well well, Miss Weasley. A student out in the corridor. I don't think that's allowed." His lips brushed the curve of her ear and a strangled noise erupted from her throat.

"Scorpius Malfoy, we are in public," her voice was a whisper in the wind, barely audible, drenched with shock and adoration. "People will find out about us rather quickly if we stand here in this manner."

A warm chuckle bubbled out of his mouth like fresh water from a creek. It tingled in her ear and brought new sensation crawling through her. "Rosie, since when do I give a damn what other people think?"

She was spun around and crushed against his body instantly, his hands crawling down to the soft curve of her waist, their lips warming from the proximity. "However," Rose observed him, hanging onto his every word, her eyes balanced fanatically on his lips. "If you are so very concerned, I happen to know where two prefects may find some privacy. Care to join me?"

She giggled in that sensible, respectable way of hers. "Did you even need to ask?"

His hand swept down to touch hers. He pulled her gently and swiftly across the passage of three different cars before they reached the prefect's car, and found a vacated cab. With a flick of his wand, Scorpius had tinted the windows and Rose Weasley found herself on her back against the comfy cushions of the seat. His chuckles echoed into her mouth as she slowly backed away.

"Little Miss Weasley gone a bit bad, has she?" Scorpius let his lips tingle against her neck, sucking a bit of peachy flesh between his teeth.

Biting back a warm moan, Rose hissed, "Haven't you heard the news? She's fallen quite head over heels for the young Malfoy boy."

Scorpius rested his forehead against hers, a smile playing on his lips, the hunger in his eyes being replaced by eternal joy and wonder. His hand snuck up her neck, before resting lightly on the curvature of her jaw. He watched the facial expressions that had been a drug to him, just as they were now. He watched her soft lips turn up into a gentle smile, her eyes lidded and peaceful and her brow eased, unbothered by the schoolwork she had left behind her. She was beautiful.

"I love you Rose." His voice was a whisper, a breath against her brain, seeping into her deep and solidly. She cherished those words.

"And I love you." She let the hand that was resting on the nape of his neck begin to play with his ruffled honey hair. It was more of his mother's color than his father's. Deep blue eyes stared down into her soul, and she shivered with the intensity of his gaze.

"I'm going to miss you… So much Rosie. I don't know how I'm going to make it." His hands began to shake, but in an attempt to hide the movement he held onto her tighter. Her body, very real and tangible in his hands, lessened the shaking. She was here, for now anyway.

Rose knew what he meant. A whole summer apart was nothing to laugh at. When they had begun this little tryst six months ago, she never could have imagined it would lead them here. They hadn't found it in themselves to tell anyone other than Albus or Lily, let alone either of their parents. Even still, the prospect of going an entire three months without the taste of his lips or the pressure of his fingers was too much for her. She simply wouldn't have that.

"I'm telling my father this summer." His voice brought her out of her own reverie.

"You're… You're telling him? Really?"

"Of course I am," He moved off of her to sit on the cushion, pulling her squarely into his lap. "I won't wait any longer. I can't go all that time."

"Scor," she began to move her fingers in and out of the loops she had created in his hair, "do you honestly believe I'm going to be a guest of honor at Malfoy Manner? Your dad isn't a big fan of you being friends with Albus, let alone snogging the daughter of his sworn enemy."

Scorpius' laugh softened the hurt in her throat from the shock of his words. "Sworn enemy is not the terminology I would use. And I don't really care what he says. He has an immense amount of respect for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Sure, they aren't old drinking mates, but he'll get over it in time. Besides," he leaned in to begin nibbling on the edge of her ear, "He'll adore you. Quick witted, sharp-tongued and sexy as hell? How could he not?"

His mouth drowned her giggles as they began kissing once more. When they finally stirred from their comfortable position, Rose pressed her forehead firmly into the curve of his neck. "Alright Malfoy, you win. I'll tell him. Him, my mother, my whole family."

The grin on Scorpius' face was too much for her to resist, and she was suddenly very thankful that the windows were so expertly tinted.

* * *

Lily Luna Potter sat with her head stuffed in Roxanne's shoulder, groaning loudly as Lysander Scamander continued on his tirade about Nargles Supreme, which in her opinion sounded very much like something her Uncle Ron had ordered at a pub once. Cheered on by Lorcan and Dominique, Lysander explained the Nargles having had their DNA twisted with some sort of avian virus from a decade ago. His hands moved wildly, zooming through the air as though they were avian creatures themselves, battling avidly against the Nargle DNA. Finally, Lily couldn't contain herself anymore.

"Merlin, Scamander, there's only enough room in this cab for five entirely sane beings; we can't handle a touch of your insanity now! Put your bloody hands down!" Roxy couldn't hold it in any longer, giggles began to erupt from her diaphragm at her cousin's words.

Much to Lily Potter's dismay, it seemed that everyone thought her extreme agitation with Lysander was incredibly amusing. It wasn't that he was an all around poor fellow; in fact, he was rather attractive. His blonde hair was shaggy, but ruffled in the front, emphasizing his more playful and creative nature than that of his brother. His eyes were the same sparkling silver as his mother's, but his father's enticing violet streaks had bled into his son's irises. His jaw was square and his shoulders wide; Quidditch had only improved upon his athletic physique.

Alas, in Lily's eyes, he was still blastedly insane. She adored his mother, who fed her son's "Quibbling" by becoming editor-in-chief of her family's magazine. She was funny and eccentric and incredibly intelligent, much like Lysander. But there was just something about Lysander, something that Lily couldn't find in Luna or Rolf or Lorcan, that made Lysander insufferable.

The violet in Lysander's eyes sparkled in an exceptionally obnoxious way that particular afternoon. "I'm sorry Lil, am I bothering you?"

Huffing, she pulled her face out of Roxy's shoulder and snarled, "Why yes, Lysander, you are. Your hands are about two inches from popping one of my favorite cousins in the face," Lily gestured toward Dominique, who was stationed between the Scamander brothers with a small grin plastered on her face. "Also, my name is not 'Lil,' you pompous ass. You know that."

Lorcan chuckled and managed to choke out, "Play nice Lily." Lily Luna never 'played nice.' It was too easy.

"Shut up Lorcan or so help me Merlin I will hex you into next Tuesday."

A mischievous grin curved up onto Lysander's face, "I quite like Tuesdays. Tuesdays are when Bisslephuts breed."

Lorcan and Lysander doubled over with ferocious laughter as Lily let out a loud and rather frustrated noise before stuffing her head back into Roxy's shoulder.

* * *

James looked cautiously over at Albus, before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he had inherited from his father. His younger brother turned to face him, a goofy smile on his mouth.

"D'you see that James? Ally Longbottom just looked at me. Honestly, think Dad'll let me get her up to the Burrow?" Albus ruffled his hair even further, the messiness somehow falling perfectly over his brow, before high-fiving Hugo from across the alley.

Fred looked up from his copy of the _Chudley Charter, _before tossing a look at Rebecca Thomas, who was biting her bottom lip in amusement as she ran her finger's through her boyfriend's auburn curls. "Al, do you have any idea how hard I had to work just to get Becca up to the Burrow? We'd already been dating for two years. It's not your dad you should be worried about; it's Nan."

As Albus groaned and Becca began to giggle, James again cleared his throat and announced himself, "Oi, you bastards, pull your heads outta your arses and listen to me." Thinking better of himself, he amended, "Sorry Bec, you know how my family is."

"Of course, Jamie, of course." She smiled softly, before kissing Fred's forehead and sliding out from under him, taking her stack of clothes and trotting down to the changing rooms.

"What's up yours, James?" Hugo twisted his face with confusion. It wasn't like James to be nervous.

"I just get the feeling that things are going to change this summer. Things are going to get weird. Am I really the only one?"

There was a moment of silence, of dark, thoughtful, revelatory silence, before Albus snorted, returning his face to the window facing the other cab where Ally Longbottom was charming little blue birds to sing the new Weird Sister's single. "You're over thinking this Jamie. Honestly, leave the thinking to the smarter members of our family; they're much better at it than you are."

So James returned back to his thoughts, gazing out of his window. Perhaps his younger brother was right. Perhaps he should relax. He had, after all, been the seeker who had managed to win the cup for Gryffindor, and had been chosen to be captain next year. He should have been an exceptionally pleased young man.

And yet something creeped down the back of his neck. Something not quite evil but unsettling whispered in his mind that something was going to change this summer. Everything was going to change this summer.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So much suspense. I'm incredibly excited about this one. It'll certainly keep me busy over the summer vacation. Please feel free to review, critiques or craze. Thanks for reading, and chapter two will be up very shortly. :)


	2. The Platform

**Author's Note: **Doesn't it seem like parents make everything more complicated? :)

For what felt like the millionth time, Hermione anxiously checked her watch. "Ron," she had begun pacing in a solid line in front of her bemused husband. "Shouldn't they be here already? I mean, the Express IS supposed to be at the platform at a half past noon, right?"

Ron chuckled, stretching a hand out to her elbow and pulling her close to him. She let out a muddled breath as she gave in to his hug and relaxed against his strong, Auror body. No matter how many years had passed since that first kiss outside the Room of Requirement, she still felt like a teenage girl every time he touched her.

"Relax love. You should know the Express is always late. Besides, it's not like it's their first year. Our children are bloody brilliant, just like their mother." He kissed her temple lightly, smiling softly.

Hermione grumbled something that sounded a lot like, "...language…" but was cut off by a very familiar chuckle.

"Hermione nervous as usual, eh?" Harry chuckled, ruffling the top of her curls just like he had done when they were thirteen years old. No matter how many years passed, they were forever the Golden Trio.

"Harry," Hermione groaned, "Stop! I worked very hard on my hair thank you! I have a meeting with the Minister tonight."

Ron reached a hand out to Harry, before hugging Ginny tightly. "Most likely to announce that YOU are the next Minister, 'Mione."

As Hermione blushed and went over to Ginny to begin discussing potential plans for supper that night, Harry and Ron found the other Weasley men, all of them chuckling about something they saw in a Quidditch game the day before. As the Hogwarts Express pulled swiftly into Platform 9 3/4, the parent's attention was drawn away from their individual conversations and beaming smiles were placed on their faces.

* * *

As usual, Molly was the first one off the train. In all of her seven years, she had been the ideal Ravenclaw, the best Hogwarts student she could imagine. It only seemed fitting that she exit the train one final time with her head up and a blue shirt on in support of her House. She knew that as soon as she stepped off this train, none of that would matter anymore. She was there for the taking of the real world.

"Hello darling," Percy stood there, his face softened with age, the severity of his brow notably eased with the presence of his children. Molly pondered, for a moment as she felt her sister's comforting hand press into her back, if his brow would stay that way.

Molly had much to tell her father. Much, much to tell him.

* * *

The usual Weasley brood clambered off the Express, hugging their friends and making half-imagined plans to meet over the summer. Things were like that at the Burrow. People swept in and out as they pleased, and their nan simply supplied the food and kept everyone smiling.

Rose, in her ever pensive state, watched her family depart, then watched her mother counting heads, hugging her younger brother tightly as their father clapped his shoulder and began to congratulate him on his season in Quidditch, commending James and Freddie as well. Her Aunt Ginny swept her children into a laughing hug, before she and Lily delved into conversation with Luna. She watched the sun spin round. She watched her happy family love one another completely. And it occurred to Rose that, perhaps when this summer was at it's end, her family might not love her that way anymore.

Scorpius' hands clamped hard onto her shoulders, keeping her from swaying with the pain of that thought. Her family was her everything. Without them, she wasn't Rosie Weasley. Just Rose.

"I know this is hard for you, love," he kissed the crown of her head, and she smoothed her body into his. "But they will love you completely, with or without me."

Finding strength in her voice, Rose replied, "As will yours, Scor. We'll be okay."

They stared at each other for a long, weeping moment. She bled with sorrow, wishing they could simply walk off the train with one another's hands held tight. They needed each other. Wanted each other. But for some reason, they couldn't have each other. And now, in the blaring of the five minute's warning bell, that became reality.

Rose leaned up and kissed him furiously, and whispered against his lips, "I love you Scorpius Malfoy. Don't be afraid. I have the courage and you have the cunning. We can do this."

Scorpius smiled down at the girl in his arms, and as he watched her leave, watched her give him one last beautiful smile before hopping off and skirting into her mother's embrace, he thought to himself, _I must marry her._

* * *

There was a moment, as every English crest baring wizarding family stood on Platform 9 3/4, where they all looked at one another. Quiet, regarding. They looked from one to the other. Children smiled at one another, oblivious for the most part the craters that they had been born into. They saw the scars they had always known. They saw the worn faces of their parents' as nothing more than familiar signs that they were still loved. But when the adult looked at one another, the smell of Hogwarts fresh on their children's clothes, they felt reverence for the dead. Even after all this time, in all the joy that had come with the years, they still found time to remember, and thank God their children didn't face the horror that they had.

Perhaps Fred felt this more than most of his cousins. Fred, despite his good natured grin and his laughable disposition, was a very lost individual. Not even his sister or his favorite cousins or his best friends could tell you that piece of information. Freddie Weasley was not only born into a crater like the rest of his peers, but was named after a man who was glorified as a martyr. As a younger boy, Fred had thought that was interesting, and thought of his late uncle as more of a superhero than anything else.

But he was not a little boy anymore. He was not a boy with whirly dreams of being a hero like his namesake. Now, he was a man looking for answers of who he was supposed to be.

It was times like these when Freddie found himself growing silent. That was one skill that he had that his younger sister did not. Roxanne was no fan of silence, comfortable or not. She often would venture out to the lake or go with her mother to find some place away from the reverent solitude of their house. Freddie took pleasure in the silence.

Rebecca put her arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder gently. Black corkscrew curls fell down from the crown of her head, creating an aura of ebony around her chocolate skin. Only Becca had ever seen him this way. They had been together since their third year, and now, as they planned to venture into their seventh year hand-in-hand, it seemed only natural that she be the one to comfort him in these moments. She studied him for only a moment, her eyes raking over his face, taking into consideration the tears that were welling in his eyes.

She turned him, murmuring, "I'll see you in two weeks, love. Think you can wait for me?"

A smile burned on his face, through the pain that was always there in the times when his dad looked at him, seeing not only a son, but a brother. "Two weeks. If no one better comes along, perhaps I'll wait."

Rebecca commenced giggling before Dean came to them, shaking Fred and his father's hand and pulling Becca away with him. Her eyes never left Fred. Perhaps she was the only one who saw him as just Fred, rather than Fred Weasley II.

* * *

Finally, as the Weasley's found it in themselves to part only for a moment to move on to their own cars or portkeys, then meet back at the Burrow for dinner, Luna and Rolf Scamander bid their friends goodbye.

"Good people, those Weasleys," Rolf chuckled, watching the numerous redheads pop away on their own.

"Wonderful people," Luna's airy tone floated up to Rolf's ears and he smiled at his wife, "My best friends. You ride a thestral with a group like that, and you never quite forget."

Rolf's laughter echoed, booming. His twin sons grinned up at him, their identical teeth shining up at their father. As Rolf and Luna begin walking toward the passage out to King's Cross, Lorcan looked over at his brother.

"Ly, I have a problem."

Lysander gave his brother a toothy smile. "You have many problems, brother. What would this one be?"

"I'm in love."

"In love?" This sparked Lysander's attention, along with the violet streaks in his eyes. "In love with what, Lorcan?"

Lorcan let out an incredulous noise, stomping off in frustration behind his parents. "With what Lysander? Really? Have you NO tact?"

So there he stood, Lysander Scamander, alone on the Platform. He let out a soft sigh, muttering to himself, "Apparently not Lorcan. Apparently I've just a 'touch of insanity.'"

With his head finally dropping in exasperation and something that felt a lot like heartbreak, Lysander followed his family, his hands in his pocket and his mind on a future that, the closer it came, the more it seemed like a dream.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm suddenly starting to realize why people like writing longer pieces now. There's so much more character development, in all of them. I don't intend to leave a single character undeveloped. Any suggestions are absolutely welcome. I have an idea of where I'm going, but there's nothing like a road map to help you on your way to your destination, right? :)


	3. The Hurt

**Author's Note: **If a substantial amount of romance and affection can ever actually be achieved, I do believe we've achieved it. So, without further ado, I believe it's time for a bit of family mishap.

As their mother and father busied themselves below, finishing the dish they had volunteered to bring to the annual "First Day of Summer" Weasley supper, Molly sat in her favorite place in the entire house. Molly had grown up in the city, but when she turned ten and Lucy had gotten very sick, the healers had told them that the smog of London was harming Lucy's tentative immune system. Naturally, a few years of heavy potion dosages and the fresh air of the farmland outside of Dalham cured Lucy. Her father never could find it in himself to return to London, however. He said it was better for his own health to separate himself from work just a tad. According to her Uncle George, this was quite a shocking statement to the Weasley bunch. To Molly, however, it was so typical.

So Molly sat there in the tall tower that grew like a tree out of her home, opening up to the mountain air in silence. Molly was a determined creature. When she was younger, it had been misconstrued as the same severity that had plagued her father until after the War, but as she had grown the shrewdness had dissipated, leaving behind only a need to prove herself. In a large family of incredibly talented individuals, everyone felt the need to prove them self.

No longer, however, would she feel the need to search. She had found what she was looking for.

The creak of the floorboard behind her told Molly that Lucy was working her way past the many walls that Molly so often built. The floorboard was a sign. Anytime one of them was in pain or needed solace, after a solid block of time was spent moping, the other sister would step on that particular creaky floorboard to announce their presence.

"Molly?" Lucy's voice was soft like snow on a new February morning, only loud enough for Molly to hear. It was a trait that only Lucy had. No other Weasley or Potter child had inherited a quiet voice, mostly because their wasn't much silence to be found. Their mother's swiftness and elegance of speech, however, was transferred into her youngest and gentlest daughter.

"Lu," Molly's voice came from her lips at the same frequency of coals being raked over a fire. Clearing her throat, Molly continued, "Lu, I'm not in the best of moods at the moment. Do you need something?"

"No," there was a gentle waft of body heat that suddenly swept across Molly's body, and she knew her sister was here with pointed, caring words. "But you do. You must tell them Molly."

Exasperated, Molly groaned and laid her head back in her younger sister's lap. "It's not that easy Lucy. I don't have your way with words."

Distantly, Lucy replied, "No, but you do have our father's love."

Before Molly could reprimand her sister, Lucy began to hum quietly, a usual sign that there was something on her mind that she refused to talk about at present. It was always best, in these times, if Molly refrained as well.

"You remember why we moved out here?"

Lucy nodded silently, her eyes glassing over as the memories of countless trips to the St. Mungo's Critical Conditions Unit slipped back into her mind. Lucy did as much as she could to remove those memories. She had always been a thin, willowy child. Sickly was yet another adjective that had been added to her ledger.

Molly stopped speaking for a moment, cautiously choosing her next few words. No matter how close she and her sister were, this was a delicate subject. The only time Molly had ever heard Lucy yell at anyone was when James had asked her, innocently enough, if she would be feeling well enough to attend Hogwarts. Eleven years of pent up rage had been released, and for another three years, the rage was bottled once more.

"I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I was seven, Molly. I highly doubt you would be that affected." Gentle and quiet as she was, Lucy's words were almost detached sounding at times, giving them a chilling effect.

With her typical boldness, Molly sat up and put a hand on her sister's shoulder, making sure she looked at her square on. "You're not invisible Lucy Weasley. You're my sister, and my best friend. I would have been utterly lost."

Before Lucy had any time to reply, their mother was calling them down, announcing that it was time to leave.

* * *

Dominique allowed Victoire to run her fingers through her hair. "Dominique, you really should let me give you some highlights. It would look very pretty, I promise."

Dominique sighed silently. It seemed as though Victoire was always trying to fix her. To be quiet honest, Dominique had never really seen herself as broken. But she never said a word, at least not to Victoire. Only Roxanne had ever heard her cry herself to sleep, feeling useless and broken in the wake of her perfect elder brother and sister.

"Vic, you know I prefer Dom."

Scoffing, Victoire braided a section of her sister's hair back, pinning it to the crown of her head and smiling contentedly at her work. "Dominique is beautiful though. Be happy with the sensibility of such a name."

Closing her eyes and biting her lip so hard she could taste blood, Dominique remained silent. There was no point in saying what she was really thinking.

"I have something I need to tell you, sister to sister, by the way," Victoire murmured, air and joy sweeping every perfect note up as though it was so grand that even the angles and the Wizards of Old deserved to hear.

Finally releasing her bottom lip and plugging the small whole her teeth had made with her tongue, Dominique nodded for her sister to continue.

"Girls," Louis popped into the room then, grinning his Weasley grin. Much like their father, Louis' hair was tied back in a soft, blonde ponytail that he let drape over his right shoulder. His dark navy robes fell around his strong and lean body, and he propped himself up against the doorway to his sister's room. "Care to tell your favorite brother hello?"

Victoire nearly squealed with delight, bouncing away from her forgotten sister and into her brother's arms. They laughed their same, tinkling laugh. Blue eyes met blue eyes. Two perfect children from their perfect parents. Dominique stared, fighting the emotions that begged to color her face. They were just too wonderful. And there she was, tomboyish and more strawberry than blonde, more weasel than Veela. She had grown accustomed to living in the dark, sweet smelling shadow of her siblings.

Bitterly, Dominique considered a laugh, but instead plastered her classic grin over her face, saying a swift hello to her brother and turning back to face her mirror, begging the question, _Who the bloody hell am I?_

* * *

Roxanne was dancing. She was a peaceful, blissful soul. Many people assumed that, due to Roxanne's love of Quidditch and affection for her tomboyish cousin Dominique that she must be rather tomboyish as well, but that just wasn't true. Roxanne was simply very relaxed.

As she danced mistily through the loft of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Roxy began to laugh. Her smile sprouted into a grin, and erupted into giggles that made her feel careless and free. Roxanne was not one to be bothered by silly problems. She, like any other young woman, had been rejected a time or two by a boy or shirked by a friend, but rather than rattle her mind in anguish, Roxy turned the other cheek. A smile was forever planted on her coffee creamed skin, without even an air of falsity.

At a very young age, Roxanne knew exactly what she was meant to be. Unlike Dominique, Roxy had no reason to prove herself and move on to the next level of Quidditch, and therefore no desire. Rather, she had a pure and honest heart that searched to help others. One afternoon when she was eight years old, she had gone with her folks to visit Lucy in St. Mungo's. Roxy had the very rare gift that she was able to read people, no matter how many walls they had built up, like a book. On that particular day, Lucy was reading like a very annoyed and scared little book.

Deciding that Lucy was a bit overwhelmed with attention, Roxy found herself hopping over to where Victoire, much older and wiser than she at the time, was standing and watching the Healers work.

"_Vic," _she had asked, "_what are they doing?" _

And of course, Victoire explained the process of healing someone, not just with potions and antidotes, but with words and smiles as well.

As though someone had whispered Lumos into her ear, Roxanne Weasley knew who she was supposed to be. When she fell in love with Quidditch, that had only become clearer. Roxy knew she was meant to help professional and secondary level players heal up after injuries. The very thought made her want to dance even more.

The only thing that could ever somber her bright mood was Freddie. He thought she didn't know when he sobered up at the mention or thought of their late uncle, but he was wrong. After all, he was her older brother and her mentor. She looked up to him in a way that she hadn't ever looked up to anyone before.

It was then, as she danced to the sound of her mother's singing from down below and the bellowing laughter of her father that she stumbled across Fred, staring at a picture that hung up on the wall at the very apex of the back wall of the loft. Side by side, two pictures hung, two twin brothers at the ripe old age of sixteen. Above the pictures in bright purple lettering read:

_I SOLEMNLY SWEAR I AM UP TO NO GOOD_

One was her father. The other, of course, belonged to Fred Weasley I. And there her brother sat, so small and young looking under the fond and smiling blue eyes of his uncle, his hand brushing the plate that read his name.

She almost felt a tear roll down her cheek. For a moment, she thought she should say something. Instead, she turned and walked silently back downstairs to join her parents, no longer dancing.

* * *

"Merlin's beard, Rose, can't you just stop being such a know it all? We've been out of school for three hours and you're already correcting me!" Hugo was fuming. Worse than fuming. He didn't know he could be so angry at his sister.

"Hugo, for Godric's sake all I said was for you to watch your language!"

Hugo stopped, a look so terrifying dropping over his normally beaming face. His nails dug hard into his palms and he hissed, "Fuck you."

Rose gasped, grabbing her brother's shoulder, berating him. "Hugo! Don't speak that way! It's entirely inappropriate!"

It hadn't always been this way between them. Sure, their personalities occasionally clashed. Rose was a shining new version of her mother reborn, and Hugo was almost exactly like their father. Even their loving parents chorused a cacophony from time to time; this was not unexpected in their house.

Hugo remembered a time when his older sister had cared about everything that had gone on in his life. He remembered a time when she would play with his warm chocolate curls and tell him that not making the Quidditch team as a second year was not the end of the world, reminding him that their father was a sixth year before he had made it on the team. He remembered a time when she understood him, even though they were so different. But that time seemed so long ago.

He couldn't quite explain why, but something in her actions over the last few months had made him feel worthless, replaced. But Hugo, like any of the other men in his family, was not one to be weak in front of anyone else. Sure, he loved his big sister more than anything, and truly was hurt by the loss of his best friend, but instead of telling her any of this, he simply "stopped caring."

It wasn't that Hugo was a particularly whiney kid. Not in the slightest, actually. Around James or Albus, Hugo returned to his old self. The fights didn't matter. Rose didn't matter. But he couldn't pretend like losing his sister wasn't painful. If he was being honest, he missed her.

Thus, the fights had escalated. Their yelling was a common occurrence in the Gryffindor common room, when they could find it in themselves to even speak. Rose had stopped offering to help him study for OWLs; he had started getting into more fights at school.

Rose, of course, was oblivious to her brother's new found rebellion. She swore it was just a stage, a phase. All the boys had gone through one, right? It was in no way her fault. It couldn't have been.

"Both of you, would you just stop fighting?" Hermione sounded tired. Rose honestly hated that tone in her mother's voice. If there was one thing she hated, it was disappointing their parents.

"See? Look what you've done. Now mum's going to be furious the whole night." Rose huffed and dug her hand into the pocket where Scorpius' necklace stayed during the day, waiting for her fingers to rub it and bring a calming sensation.

Hugo stared at his sister. He stared, because what else was there to do when you didn't know your closest friend anymore?

With that, he was walking away, muttering under his breath, "As if you give a goddam what happens to me anymore."

* * *

The Potters busied themselves with helping Ginny in the kitchen, laughter popping from head to head as they all passed a quaffle from hand to hand. This was what happened when they all tried to cook. In almost everything they did, it seemed like Quidditch was a key element.

James and Albus were chatting away with their mother about all the girls they had "snogged" at school, laughing as their mother made vomiting noises over the food, and promised to make sure that bit was what she served them.

Lily pulled a large ceramic pan from the top shelf of the cabinet nearest the window when a sprig of bright teal hair caught her eye. Grabbing her father's robe, she gasped, "Teddy's home!"

She was always the first one to launch into Teddy's arms as soon as he graced their threshold with his presence. She was safe there.

She didn't dare tell a soul about her crush on Teddy Lupin. Why would she? She loved Victoire; she wasn't a malicious person. On the contrary, she was incredibly compassionate. Therefore, she found it only reasonable to love him from the shadows.

So love him she did. As Teddy walked into their large home, he let out a laughing shout as she threw herself into his body. As always, he held her close, and she felt like she could hold on to him just a little longer. Of course, James and Albus were gaining his affection too, but their was something significant about being the first person he greeted.

"How's my favorite girl?" His girl. She loved it when he called her that. She felt protected.

"Phenomenal, I'll have you know. Positively peachy." Lily grinned up at him, praying the hopefulness didn't show in her eyes. Swept up in the chatter of her brothers, the smiles of her parents and with Teddy's arm around her shoulder, Lily allowed herself to delve into a fantasy where this was all she ever needed, and everything she could have.

She should have known better.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'd like to formerly apologize for all the angst in this chapter. Actually, I'm not sorry at all; it was absolutely wonderful to write this. I love writing pieces that stir up an emotional response from my audience. I know for me personally, I've been in every one of these stages with my siblings. I'm sure we all have. As usual, your comments and critiques are welcome. Stick with me, I promise it won't be all angst. ;)


	4. The Game

**Author's Note: **Let's try to make this one a little more light hearted, shall we?

At the Burrow, with the comfort of their grandmother's food sitting soundly in their bellies and the whir of wind spitting in their ears, it was easy to forget everything and just enjoy themselves. Quidditch was the Weasley family release. On the make shift pitch that Arthur and his sons had built ages ago, it seemed as though nothing, no Dark mark or family feud or even work, could bother them.

There was peace. It was a rare, though cherished, occurrence there at the Burrow. Between James' and Fred's pranks, the girls' arguments, and Hugo's and Albus' target practice, things could get a little messy around the Burrow.

Perhaps that's what made it so comforting to Teddy. Teddy had never known a place of love and laughter like the Burrow. Messy is what drew him so longingly to the Weasley home. So, as he watched a group of people that were his family, though no blood was shared, play the one game that had the ability to unite them all, he couldn't help a smile. Normally he was playing front beater alongside Fred, but Hugo seemed to have taken his spot and Teddy was perfectly content to sit out a game and lean against his motorcycle.

Warm, loving hands reached out to wrap around his shoulders as soft, icy kisses dropped along his neck. "Pensive, darling?"

He grinned his big, toothy grin before murmuring, "Ted Lupin doesn't know the meaning of the word 'pensive.'"

She wanted to make a smart comment in reply, but thought better of it, savoring the groan he let out as she put pressure at the base of his neck. "So what are you thinking of?"

He let the air out of his lungs in a long, sweeping movement before wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, lowering his forehead to Victoire's temple, his lips touching her ear. A tentative shiver slipped up her spine and through her fingers. She couldn't quite explain why it was so easy for her to lose herself in the feeling of Ted Lupin. He was warmth in its very personified state. He had been the only man she had ever loved. Her first kiss, first love, first date, first… First everything, if she was being honest.

Often times she had been made fun of as a child for being a perfect angel. Unlike many who suffer from "perfection-syndrome" as her younger brother called it, Victoire did not shirk away from the prospect of perfection. That simply was who she was. She wanted to help, to light up the world. She wasn't trying to live up to some sort of shadow left by her parents. She was just being who she was, and everyone just happened to see that as angelic.

"Us," his voice was distant, almost dark. Victoire had never known his father, but there was something about him in these moments that just seemed to echo Remus Lupin.

"This," she whispered, a fear that grew deep in her heart crawling out of her throat, "would be a terrible time to break up with me."

He looked down at her, his eyes turning softly to a warm chocolate gold color, their natural color. A small smile kissed his features. "Silly Weasley, I'm not breaking up with you. Just because I'm thinking about us doesn't mean I'm considering the possibility of there not being an us. No," he paused, watching her body relax against hers, now understanding he would not be leaving her, "no, I'm thinking of how we're supposed to break the news."

This took Victoire by surprise. Her family loved Teddy; hell, it was THEIR family. He had nothing to fear in her eyes, nothing but a swallowing hug from every woman she was related to. "Teddy, love, you seem so troubled. You've no reason to be nervous."

Teddy chuckled, his hair turning a soft shade of lavender, peeking the signs of embarrassment so classically. "I have every reason to be nervous. Two of your uncles are Aurors, one worked with dragons, one is the master of humiliating pranks, one can have me thrown in Azkaban for the rest of my life with a flick of his wand and your dad… Bloody Hell, your dad's the scariest man I know!"

Victoire began laughing, laughing so hard her beautiful frenchly pale skin was coated with red. "Oh you think that's funny, do you Weasley?"

She could barely choke out an affirmative response before he was tickling her ferociously, his fingers hitting all the most ticklish places, as she shrieked with joy and panic.

A hundred feet in the air, Lily Luna Potter stopped her chasing of the quaffle, her eyes filling with pain as she watched Teddy hold Victoire. As impossible as the future she sought was, watching it being ripped away was the most excruciating feeling she had ever experienced. A soft, caring hand touched her shoulder, and Rose whispered, "You'll always be his favorite girl Lily."

And while she wanted to believe Rose, she wanted even more to hear Teddy say those words.

* * *

When the brood returned back to the warm comfort of the Burrow and some summer pudding, an owl sat preening on the window sill. It wore a thin green collar of sorts, marking him as Scorpius' owl, but only Rose or Albus would know that. She tried not to look obvious as she rushed to the window, undoing the knot that held a letter to Balthazar's leg and stroking his crown gently.

"Who's that from, love?" Ron's voice announced his spying, a happy and slightly exhausted smile on his freckled face.

Rose began to panic. "Uh, nobody Daddy. Just a friend from school."

"A secret admirer, no doubt?" Her uncle Harry began cutting a bit of pudding, chuckling. Ron's face began to heat up with his own protective sensibilities, and his fingers twitched with the urge to grab the letter.

Albus swept in to the rescue before things could get out of hand. "Shut up Dad, don't you know I'm the only one in this family who is so devilishly handsome that I have secret admirers?" This set all the men off on Albus, leaving Rose to relax and read her letter in peace.

_Rosie,_

_I forgot how much my parents love the color green. Honestly, you'd think they'd be more creative with their color pallet. _

_I miss the color red. I miss your hair, the color of the common room, the color of our scarves, and your blush when I kiss you. I also miss the color brown, like your eyes and chocolate. I don't particularly miss Albus' eyes; there's enough green here as it is. But do be sure to lie to him. I believe he grows quite jealous of you and I. Secretly, it is my firm belief that your cousin is devastatingly in love with me. _

_On a more serious note, I love you. Have I mentioned that yet? No? Well, I do. Father seems like he's in a very good mood lately. Mother says my grandfather is finally beginning to lessen his hatred of Muggles and all things related to them, which makes it much easier for Father to let go of his prejudice. I don't think he really is that truly evil. Just scared of his dad. Don't worry love, I won't be a thing like that. I promise. I don't fear my father. _

_I suppose I should let you go back to your family now. By now I'm sure whatever distracted your vast family long enough for you to read this far is waning in it's ability to distract, so I'll leave you be. _

_Remember, I will always love you. _

_Your's, _

_SHM_

_P.S. Marry me? _

A small smile had been growing into a grin as she leaned back against the wall. She closed her eyes and let her mind paint perfect pictures of weddings and a blonde haired boy with piercing blue eyes.

"Oi!" Albus' distressed shout drew Rose's attention and she opened one eye to see her favorite cousin reading her letter. "I do NOT like boys!"

"Shut up Al," Fred shouted from the kitchen, "Of course you do. We've seen the way you look at Scorpius Malfoy."

"I don't look at him in any particular manner! He's my best friend!"

"Oh Scor," James began imitating him, "You're the best keeper in the entire school!"

Roxanne began to join in, "Scor, please help me with my homework? You're SO much smarter than I am!"

"And you're BODY," Lily began to giggle uncontrollably as Albus whipped his wand out menacingly.

"Oh put it away, Al." Rose folded her letter and stuffed it into the pocket of her robes, ruffling her best friends hair despite the fact that now she had to stand on tiptoes to reach his head.

Lucy lifted her head from the book she was reading and smiled, stating, "Rose is correct. It is illegal for any underage wizard to use magic, except under dire circumstances."

Albus snorted, shoving his wand away, muttering something about "sodding off" as he picked Fred's plate of pudding up and shoved it in his face, resulting in resounding laughter from the entire family.

* * *

Not so far away, another family sat at dinner. There was an airy silence that drifted around the male members of the family as Luna began her detailed explanation of the headliner for the Quibbler the next morning.

Lorcan sat, playing in his food as though his life depended upon alining his English peas as the stars. In them he wrote a single word.

_DOMINIQUE_

No one but him saw. No one needed. The fact that the word was real and there almost made the pain that she wasn't bearable. It didn't matter that she was older. It didn't matter that she was redheaded or tomboyish or any of the things her sister wasn't.

He was never exceptionally fond of Victoire anyway.

He stared at the word for a very long time, before dismantling the word and letting the pain of reality eat away at his warm, kind heart.

* * *

**Author's Note: **One mystery revealed, another million to unveil. With that being said, I hope this chapter put a smile on your face, because I have a feeling the next one will rip it right off. :) As always, you have my love.


	5. The Storm

**Author's Note: **I feel like making some tears fall with this chapter.

Lysander wasn't quite sure at what point in his life he had decided he didn't want to live without her. He wasn't as certifiably insane as everyone tried to say. No, he was simply more imaginative than most of his peers. Lysander was in every way a normal guy.

A normal guy with normal wants. And he wanted her.

It was a shame that she didn't want him back, in his opinion. She was a bit swept up in the idea of his insanity. Which was unfortunate, also in his opinion.

The moon shined down into his window. It was times like these that he wished Lorcan wasn't always getting frustrated with him. Most of the time, Lysander simply wanted to make a light hearted joke or two, but Lorcan had a very short fuse that, once lit, burned very quickly and would lead to Lysander being left alone at night. He had never been a fan of the night. It seemed as though he thought most thoroughly during the night, keeping him awake for tortuous hours. Thinking, for the most part, about her.

Lysander didn't know how NOT to be himself. He was a disheveled fellow, but in his own devilishly handsome way. Ruffled sandy hair like his mothers, silver and violet eyes, an athletic build. He was infuriatingly confused why she couldn't find it in her heart to love him.

But of course, it all lead back to his insanity.

He groaned, letting his body slam back against his very large bed. He couldn't sit still in such a situation. He needed a release for all the pent up energy and tension in his body.

His hands found his broom without stumble or mistake, and he threw his body out of his window. His childhood home was very large, and he always liked to wait a moment, let himself freefall, before he actually moved his broom beneath himself.

The wind whipped his hair about his ears, and he breathed in summer's scent. A smile crept onto his strong face.

Finally, he slipped the broom under his body and stopped his descent immediately, before zooming north.

He wasn't quite sure where he was going, only that he was going there. He didn't stop himself. He didn't think very hard on the subject.

Had he looked behind him, he might have noticed a young man with similar features and darker, shaggier hair looking out of a window just below the one that Lysander had taken off from, and seen a small concerned look grace his brother's face.

When he was out of earshot from his home and his father's hawk-like hearing, Lysander let a scream rip through his chest. It was a guttural, animalistic sound, and he liked the way it reverberated through the mountains.

Merlin, he missed her. With every part of his body, he missed her. He wanted her to notice him as more than just an insane best friend who always knew how to frustrate her and make her laugh. She was so blind. She couldn't see that he was everything she ever could want.

She wanted a challenge. Who would challenge her more than a man who insisted on disagreeing light-heartedly with every word to leave her lips?

She wanted competition. They had been competing since the day their mothers introduced them, and he challenged her to a game of tag.

She wanted love.

He wanted to love her.

With the moon high in the sky, Lysander finally let his head drop and he felt his angst-ridden body release it's emotions. For the first time in his entire life, Lysander Scamander, ladies' man extraordinaire and emotionless fool, felt tears roll down his cheeks for a girl. A girl whom he loved with his whole being.

* * *

The first week of summer had come, and gone. Dominique sat under a very large apple tree in her grandfather's orchard, her throat dry and her hair tied back. She was wearing a simple t-shirt and a pair of her favorite shorts. She wore no make up and didn't attempt a Veela-esque smile. Here, she was herself.

Whoever the hell that was.

"Dom?" Hugo. She would know the voice of her younger cousin anywhere. She seemed to be one of the only cousins he would talk to these days.

"Yes, Hugh? What seems to be the problem?"

He limped over and slumped down against the base of the tree, groaning horribly. Dominique let out a pained sigh as she surveyed the young, fifteen year old boy. "Oh Hugo…"

Blood stained his gray shirt, slipping down from his busted lip and staining his pale neck. His knuckles were cracked and he seemed to be nursing a wound on his right side. His curls fell messily over his forehead and his eyes were crinkled with the force of trying to hide his pain. "I think I'm going to vomit."

Dominique tapped his lip and set in on a few healing spells she had learned from Roxanne for when she was on the pitch and didn't have time to actually wrap up a cut. He released another terrible, throaty noise when she pulled his shirt up to look at the large bruise that was forming on his abdomen. "Who was it this time, Hugo?"

"Just the bloke next door," he stopped to take a breath, clearly winded from just walking up to the tree, "He was making fun of me for being smaller, saying I could never take on a full grown man… I kicked his bloody arse, the bastard…" He tried to chuckle, but it caused him too much pain and he bit down on his swiftly healing lip to keep from screaming.

"You can't keep doing this, sweetheart," Dominique's voice was soft, careful. She wasn't sure exactly why he had started fighting. She wanted to help. She wanted to understand.

"What's it matter? As if anyone'd give a damn."

Dominique watched him for a long moment. She knew that feeling. She understood what it felt like to feel like nobody could even see that you were there. "Does this have something to do with your sister?"

He let his eyes drop to the grass, and she finally saw the problem. Her arms enveloped him and she hugged her healing cousin, gently, carefully, as though he was nothing more than a boy of glass.

He didn't stop the tears. He didn't quiet the sobs. If no one else paid attention, at least Dominique did. And if no one else saw her ability to impact, at least Hugo did. They both were crying then, and they tried very hard not to feel so alone.

* * *

Lucy had never been one for complaining. There were many things that Lucy Weasley was not.

Lucy was not exceptionally beautiful or brilliant like Victoire or Rose. She didn't know how to be fiery and intoxicating like Lily. She was lost as to how Dominique and Roxanne were so adventurous and determined. Even her own rebellious, self-assured sister was a mystery to her.

She was just Lucy. Quiet, mild-mannered and gentle. They weren't words that were often used to describe a Weasley. Of course, she'd been the only Hufflepuff Weasley there had ever been. Unfortunately, her qualities weren't exactly an asset in her family. It seemed like everyone believed they could walk all over here. Pretend she wasn't even there. It was easy, she would give them that. She didn't protest their walking all over her. She had simply come to terms with the fact that maybe she was better off in the background anyway.

So there she sat, silent as ever against the wall in the garden. Her cousins rarely dared to come back here; the gnomes would attack as soon as they entered the perimeter. But even the gnomes seemed to believe she didn't exist, and thus she found peace here.

James found her that way, buried in a book and legs crossed. He leaned against the doorway and watched his youngest cousin read. There was a terrible tension between the two of them; there always had been. He hated it.

James was usually a very light-hearted fellow. He and Fred threw themselves into pranking without a second thought, and he knew that when this next year was over, he would help take over WWW, perhaps open a shop in another magical community. James had a plan. He had nothing to worry about.

But James had a gift. James' gift was that he had the ability to bring joy to almost everyone he met. He had an infectious smile and a shining disposition. He simply couldn't help it.

However, there was one person he could never seem to make smile. Lucy had always seemed so fragile; it appeared the correct course of action to treat her with care.

But of course, Lucy hated being treated with care.

"Lu," James' voice was soft, not just from treating her carefully but also in fear of the gnomes.

Lucy cocked her head as if to suggest that she was listening, but didn't let her eyes leave her book. James took the liberty to continue. "Lucy, do you mind if I join you?"

She lifted a hand effortlessly, patting the ground beside her. James took the peace offering, cradling his knees against his chest and exhaling. How long had he been holding his breath?

"You seem off Lucy. More quiet than usual."

She gave a disgruntled snort, a very uncharacteristic noise. Now James knew something was wrong. "Seriously, it's okay for you to talk to me. I won't tell anyone or anything."

"If I told you, James, it would take you repeating it for anyone else to notice."

He was taken aback. Her voice was cold, unfeeling. Detached.

"What do you mean, Lu?"

Lucy had had enough. She snapped her book closed, a growl threatening in her throat. "I mean, dammit, that no one pays a single bit of goddam attention to me in this family. I'm so different from all of you, aren't I? So different that no one even knows I exist. My own father barely notices me. Dammit, no on notices me. Good day James."

She stood swiftly, her feet ponding the ground harshly. James could only stare. It was evident that that little feeling from the Express was beyond right. Everything was about to fall apart. A drop of freezing rain popped over the bridge of his nose. He looked up. A storm was brewing.

* * *

Lily laid out on the couch. More accurately, she laid out on the bodies of other's who were sitting on the couch. Under her, Rose was playing with her hair, Roxanne was drumming silently on her stomach, and Dominique was complaining about feet. Lily wasn't really paying attention.

It was a rare day when you could actually assemble their entire family. Every Potter, Weasley, or Scamander was present, along with Teddy's grandmother. Something big was about to happen.

Lily let her eyes rove over Teddy. He stood there in her favorite flannel, his hair messy, a startling shade of green. He was nervous. She couldn't help but wonder why.

Beside him, holding his hand was her beautiful part-Veela cousin. Victoire was one of the most stunning women Lily had ever met in her life. She was also one of Lily's favorite cousins.

Her feelings toward them were very muddled and confusing. A crush was really the only way she could describe her affections toward Teddy. She didn't want to lose his attention. She didn't want to lose her best friend and the man who had always picked her up out of the dirt. And yet there was Victoire, whom she nearly idolized and thought to be one of the greatest women alive. She didn't hate them together. She didn't really know how she felt. She found it was easier just to ignore it all together.

Finally, Victoire cleared her throat, and squeezed Teddy's hand. "We have something we'd like to tell all of you. Something very, very important."

"Are you pregnant?" Albus' voice broke a soft, anticipating silence. There was swearing and a solid clopping noise, and Albus shouted a threat. Victoire sighed.

"No, you idiot. I am certainly not pregnant."

A weight lifted from every heart in the room, especially Lily's. She didn't know how she would accept such a painful reality. Lily began to relax noticeably, stretching out over her cousins and pondering what dinner would hold for her. She found that she was very hungry.

"We're getting married." Teddy's voice.

The world seemed to stop spinning.

Time slowed to a screech.

She thought she could hear shouts of joy, distantly.

All she heard was her heart ripping.

Rip. Rip. Rip.

Lily looked at everything else in the room, but not at Teddy. She would not look at Teddy. Under her, her favorite cousins had frozen stiff. They knew. Only the three of them and Lysander had ever learned of her crush.

Teddy was being taken away from her. The world went fuzzy on the sides of her vision. Her head was swimming.

Only Lysander, from across the room, could see her dying. Only he could predict what was about to happen.

Outside, lightening struck, and Lysander prepared himself for the thunder.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm such a pansy. I cried writing every one of these scenes. I hate my ability to connect with my characters sometimes. If you had a serious connection, please let me know. I'd love to hear how all of this is making you feel:) As always, you have my love.


	6. The Thunder

**Author's Note:** The style of my writing for the next little bit is going to change ever so slightly. As Lysander so eloquently put it, a storm is here, and as we all know, storms are long and terrifying. I want my readers to know the full extent of this storm. So, in honor of my favorite next generation character, this chapter belongs to Lily Luna Potter. While I wish I could dedicate a more… Appealing chapter, this chapter is for my dear and consistently reviewing friend, Horse. Enjoy:)

Some believed that, due to her usual fiery personality, Lily would react like lithium in water when upset. Violent. The very opposite was true.

Lily sat like a statue on the couch. She didn't move. She didn't speak. She couldn't even look at her own family. She simply sat in silence, as though her fire had been put out.

She could hear people whirring by her, but she felt as though she was trapped in some sort of gelatin solution, seeing them in blurs and shapes. Her eyes were trained on a specific spot on the carpet and she didn't dare move away from the spot. It was too distracting. She noticed the gold woven into the maroon carpeting, age old spills that had never been taken up. She might have noticed the cellular make up of the damn flooring, had she not been blinded by the tears that welled under her eyelids.

How dare he? How could he do this to her? Sure, it wasn't entirely his fault. He didn't know she loved him, not like that at least. But he had to know that this meant that they would never be the same again. That he could never be her best friend. That she could never be his favorite girl again.

A heavy weight settled next to her. A red and blue flannel. Dark wash jeans with those goddamned boots. Soft, silent breathing, like that of a beast. Of a werewolf. Teddy.

"Lily, shouldn't you be congratulating me?" His voice was filled with laughter. With happiness. With the elation of a soon to be wed man.

Lily remained silent. She didn't know what to say, and even if she did she wouldn't know how to say it.

"Come on Little L, you stunned by my ability to get her to marry me?" He chuckled at his own joke. Lily felt sick.

How could he not notice? Did he honestly not see how much pain she was in? If he knew her as well as she had thought he did, they would never be faced with this problem. He would have noticed the lump in her throat. He would have noticed her trembling hands. He would have noticed the white of her knuckles. He would have noticed her unusually still legs. He would have noticed her wire shut jaw. Most importantly, he would have noticed that she wasn't Lily at all at the moment.

He kept talking, talking, talking, talking. Lily didn't hear a word. She knew that he was going on about the way the he proposed and had she been home from Hogwarts yet, he would have absolutely gotten her involved and gotten her help, but how when the timing was right he simply couldn't help himself. He would go on and on about himself. Himself. He was oblivious to her.

She realized very suddenly how cold it was in the house. She thought for a moment the blood had stopped pumping around her body, that it was frozen just like her. Teddy didn't know her like she thought he had. He wasn't her best friend, if he couldn't tell such an obvious fact about her. And maybe she didn't know him that well either. Maybe everything she had told herself was a lie.

Walls began crashing as Teddy talked on. No tear fell, but her floodgates flew up. Her body quivered with horror and, if at all possible, her face became even more stoic. And Teddy didn't notice a thing.

Not a goddam thing.

Finally, he must have realized she wasn't talking. He shrugged as though she was just being stubborn, then padded off to his bride to be. For once, Lily didn't care what he did.

His weight was replaced after an unidentifiable amount of time. The weight was heavier, bulkier. Familiar. And despite every bit of her soul trying to tell her otherwise, comforting.

He moved closer than Teddy had. His shoulder touched hers gently, and it was warmth.

"You don't have to stay here Lily." Lysander's voice snuck out from his throat, the same sickening sweet way about it as usual. But now, it didn't sound so obnoxious. Every once and a while, he truly seemed to care for her. He didn't make jokes when she needed his sweet silence. He understood her moods and her mentalities. He was a better best friend than Teddy had ever attempted to be.

She nodded. It was the first movement anyone had elicited from her so far.

"Go. I know this hurts. I'll be here when you return. I know where the butterbeer is." Lily nodded again, and when his hand touched the small of her back, she stood, allowing his comfort to sink in.

She wasn't sure how or what force had carried her to the door, but despite a few disgruntled comments about her staying there with the family, she was able to walk out with little to no problem.

Lily didn't look back.

She knew she was supposed to feel warm. She knew she was supposed to feel something, anything at all. But she didn't feel a thing.

The sun shined down on on her freckled skin but she just felt cool. She didn't know when her legs had begun pumping her forward, but they had. She didn't know how fast she was going but she felt the wind gasping beside her ears and whistling through her hair. Rain drenched her to the bone.

At the top of her favorite distant hill, her knees met the hard ground. She knew blood was slipping down her legs now, but she couldn't care less. She wanted to feel something.

She would have given anything to feel pain. Even pain from Teddy and Victoire, just pain period. But now she felt as though her very life force, her very core had been put out by the loss of a best friend. She would miss him tragically.

Her lungs begged to scream out, to release the flood, but she couldn't. The words would not come. The pain was so horrid that she was in shock. That she was numb.

Her body quaked as she let herself fall to the ground entirely. She let the rain soak her. She let the walls down and inhaled. She waited and waited and waited.

Eventually, the pain came, the pain of needing to breathe.

Why it had to hurt like this, she would never know. She didn't love Teddy, not really. She had grown up with him. He was a funny fellow, a smart fellow. And yes, while they were no longer as close as they had been as children, and while she had changed more than anyone could understand, she felt a longing. A misery. She had loved him because she had needed him as a child. Despite the fact that she no longer needed him, she wanted to go back to an easier time.

A time when things weren't infinitely difficult.

There was a sloshing beside her, and a settling of feet. She knew who it was, and what he would do. It was the same thing he always did when she was upset.

He sat, crossing his legs, picking up her head gently and laying it against his legs, not quite in his lap. Innocent.

"Lysander," her voice was rough and sand-papery, the first sound she had made in more than an hour. His name.

Lysander prickled at the sound and began running her fingers through her hair, toying with it gently. "Yes, Lily?"

And suddenly, the floodgates opened. Tears, big and hot, began pouring down her cheeks and her throat was raw with the sobbing. He gathered her up in his thick and strong arms, keeping her tucked tightly under his chin, cooing.

"I don't want to miss him but I do… I don't want to be jealous Lysander," her voice was choppy and horrified. She couldn't control herself. She just wanted to stay there with him and cry forever.

"Hush now, Lily. We can stay as long as you need."

Teddy hadn't noticed. Teddy didn't understand. Lysander was there, holding her in the rain. Lily didn't even know how much it hurt him to hold her this way, to wipe away the tears of another man. She couldn't have comprehended his agony.

And yet he stayed as the thunder roared, and little Lily Luna Potter fought away the numbness.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know this was a shorter chapter, but I wanted to give Lily a chance to grieve. I'm about to do a drastic character re-evaluation. If you can't tell, Lily doesn't like feeling numb, and she won't stay that way for long. It only gets more heart wrenching from here folks. However, as always, you have my love. :)


	7. The Relapse

**Author's Note: **This next chapter is dedicated to my enthusiastic and well-deserving reviewer, Lizluvsdoggies. I apologize that it'll probably be one that makes you cry:)

Days passed with little to no word from Lily. She spoke infrequently, and only to Lysander and Rose. The rest of her family received nods and short, snapping hand gestures. Teddy received the least of these.

But Lily's sudden muted disposition was the least of the Weasleys' concern.

Wedding jitters had taken over the Weasley brood, and joy spilled from their very beings as they flitted about the house, dragging either Victoire or Teddy behind them, blasting on about setting a date near the end of the summer so everyone could attend and colors and food and nonsense of that nature. For the most part, the house was filled with happiness and excitement for the future. Even Dominique and Hugo were able to shake their hidden blues for the sake of their family. Laughter billowed from the Burrow like water from a bilge.

But with these good natured feeling stirred an electricity, an energy flooding the veins of one particular Weasley girl. Molly stood near the window, her back against the warm glass. On her face, beneath her eye make up and powder, lurked a need. A hunger.

If Teddy and Victoire could find the bravery to make such an announcement, how could she not?

Then again, the blue and yellow were not known for their bravery like her Gryffindor cousins. Sure, Molly was brilliant and if given a mathematical problem calculating the trajectory of spells, there would be no hesitation. But she was not brave. She could not simply spill her heart onto the floor at her father's feet.

No, her hand needed to be forced. She would wait. As the only graduating members of her family in that year, she knew sooner or later, they would ask her of her plans. Her father would inform them of his plans, and she would correct them. And a war would erupt.

Her chance came sooner, rather than later.

They were all in the sitting room one warm night at the very end of June, the wind whistling in from the open windows. Their grandmother busied herself in the kitchen with her husband, washing up the dishes. Their parents were all speaking in pleasant murmurs as they watched their children lull in the warmth. With all of the excitement as of late, Luna and her family had been spending quite a bit of time there in the Burrow. It was just as well that they hear this as well.

"So Molly," Molly's back stiffened at the sound of her Aunt Angelina's voice, "We've yet to hear your plans for the next year or so. What plans have you made? Is there a special boy?"

Just as expected, Molly did not get a chance to speak first. Her father had begun speaking before she even opened her mouth. "Well you see, Angelina, my daughter," Molly's eyes flashed to her sister at this, who was practically shrinking in the bellow of her father's voice, gripping the cover of her book with intensity, "will begin the pre-law program the Ministry is doing so that she may join her father. As for a boy, my darling Molly wouldn't even think of such foolishness quite yet, isn't that right love?"

For a short time, there was silence. Molly's eyes were trained on her sister for a long gaping moment. She sought comfort, reassurance. Sure enough, when her younger sister looked away from the pages of the book, there was fire flashing in her eyes.

"Not at all, dad."

She said it without waver, without fear. She said it with venom flicking off her teeth, turning her eyes to watch the words sink like fangs into her father's mind. His face turned a deep red color, and she noticed he wasn't breathing.

"_What_?" The word left his throat sickeningly, smackingly, a harsh word that dripped from his mouth. Molly tried not to flench.

"Dad, I don't want to work for the Ministry. I want to go to New Zealand and work with the Magical Creature Sciences Department to begin work on preserving creatures like the Hippogriff. I've wanted to for a very long time." Molly stopped and watched her father for a reaction. Their family had gone silent.

Percy was fuming now. He could only flap his jaw like a fish, open and closed, and then open again. Audrey looked at her husband, and reached for him, but he was standing now, moving closer towards their daughter.

Molly stood her ground.

"No, Molly Ann Weasley you will not. You will not go to New Zealand and you will not do that research. You will work in the Department of Magical Legislation with me. I will not let you throw your dreams away over a little phase you're going through."

Now it was Molly's turn to fume. "My dreams, Dad? Mine? No, that's entirely incorrect. They were never my dreams! And you would know that if you would just listen to your daughters for once!"

Percy was stepping ever closer now, "I listen to you Molly, and I am your father who knows what's best for you."

"No Dad," her voice was cold and hard, angry, "You don't have a goddam clue what's good for me; you only know what's good for you. That's all you've ever cared about! You, you, you! Dad, look at me! I'm nothing like you!"

It was true. Her jeans were tight and ripped, something a sensible daughter of Percy Weasley would never be caught dead in. Her hair was short and soft, her eye make up beautiful and eccentric. She was deadly rebellious and quick witted, fast and strong. She wasn't made for the Ministry. She was made for the wild, for a life of adventure.

"And, in addition to that 'foolishness' you spoke of, there is a boy. His name is Henry Zabini. He's wonderful and beautiful and I'm devistatingly in love with him. And you would know that if you even opened your eyes to anyone's wants and needs but your own. We're going to New Zealand together."

Tears clouded Percy's vision. "You were my one chance, Molly. You are the only person who can take over for me, don't you see?"

Molly's blood ran cold as ice. In the hush of the astonished crowd, Molly heard the shaking of parchment and book upon clothing, and the shuffling of angry feet. Lucy stood, and stepped next to her sister.

"Have you forgotten my existence all together, Father? Am I truly that meaningless to you?" Lucy's voice was not quiet or meek, but cold and unfeeling. This was horror, anger in it's purest form. Molly didn't dare leave her sister's side.

Percy turned his head to face her, looking as though he had just watched a bludger fly through her open jaws.

He opened his mouth to speak, but her shoulders were shaking and she shouted, "Stop! Shut up, Father! Don't feed me your nonsense. For the longest time, I thought perhaps you would realize that you have two daughters. I love my sister, but she is not your only offspring. And clearly, she is not the one who wishes to take your place, to follow in your footsteps. I am. But you don't even know I exist, do you Father?"

He could merely stare. This was mutiny. His girls were turning against him.

Lucy stepped forward, her hands balling into fists. "I'm here, Father! I'm right here. And I am not weak or quiet or plain. I am just as strong as any of the other Weasleys. I am not your doormat. I will not be trod on like some nearly nonexistent bump in the road."

Anger flashed hot in her eyes, and she began to shake harder, violently. Her voice rose with fury. "Look at me! I am your daughter!"

And for the first time in over fifteen years, Percy properly looked at his youngest child. No tears burnt in her eyes, but her face was contorted in determination. She was sharp and clinical almost, ideal for the practice of law. Seeing her this way made him realize that.

But he had missed his chance.

For as he watched his daughter, seeing her for the first time, seeing both of his daughters for the first time, Lucy's shaking became uncontrollable. Her eyes were lidded and pained and her breathing was heavy until, all together, it stopped. Her knees knocked with the shakes, before she tumbled to the ground, passing out as her body began to seize on it's way to the floor.

Molly caught her sister's head, and other cousins rushed to care for her. Percy could only watch in horror.

* * *

It was quite a sight to see them all in St. Mungo's that night. No one looked at each other. No one spoke. Husbands and wives held one another. Rebecca held Freddie's hand, having arrived immediately at his request. Victoire leaned her head against Teddy's shoulder. Lysander held a shaking Lily, while Lorcan merely sat himself beside Dominique, who looked so shell-shocked she could not complete a thought.

Audrey sat with her head in her hands, silent sobs shaking her shoulders as Percy paced in front of her, wringing his hands. What had he done? What had he done?

Molly slumped far away from the rest of their family. They couldn't understand. They didn't know Lucy like she did. Sure, they loved her and were worried, but they didn't KNOW Lucy like she did. Her baby sister was hurting. She had finally stood up to their father, only to be knocked down and shaking.

Fire burned up her throat. She needed to scream.

"You did this." Her voice started as a hiss. But as she slowly lifted her head, her eyes blank of anything but near hatred, it rose like mercury in a thermometer. "You did this. And if she dies, if my best friend dies, you will know it was your fault."

Percy didn't say a word. But father's bloodshot eyes met his daughter's. He wanted to hold her and apologize. He wanted to turn back time and stop Lucy's seizure. He wanted to change it all. He had pushed too hard, expected too much. And now, he would pay for his sins.

Just then, a Healer passed through the swinging doors and into the lobby, his eyes weary. The Weasleys jumped to attention, each holding expectation and a prayer for good news in their hearts.

"Sir," Audrey's voice was shallow and cracking, "Is my daughter all right?"

The Healer's eyes shifted to her, soft and sympathetic. "Lucy is stable. Her relapse was severe; she must have been feeling this for quite some time. It's a miracle she didn't have an attack earlier. It would have been brought on by any sort of energetic activity. Had you noticed her acting more subdued than usual?"

Every member of the family began to nod and murmur. Percy felt his heart drop; he hadn't noticed a thing.

"Where is she? I want to see my sister." Molly scrambled to her feet, trying to walk where he had come from.

The Healer stumbled over his words, "I… I don't believe you want to see her now."

But Molly didn't care. She pushed past him, raising her wand and whispering a seeking spell, searching for her sister's magical identity. Her father followed shortly behind, while the rest of their family stayed holding one another up. The Healer followed them, trying to stop them but he couldn't reach the pair in time.

Molly crashed into the room, but froze. There Lucy was, tubes and blood bags and potion bottle upon potion bottle behind her. She was barely recognizable. She looked dead.

Molly collapsed into a chair beside her sister and began to sob.

Percy leaned against the frame of the door for support. The whole room was spinning now. Distantly he heard the doctor, "...stronger than before…not sure how much longer...do everything we can…"

His throat was dry. His vision was dark and he felt utterly weak. His little girl was laid on that bed, in this awful, awful place, dying.

And it was all his doing.

The bleep of the Muggle machines monitoring her heart was all he could hear. Oh yes, he would pay for his sins.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **… Damn y'all, we're getting deep. I don't know where this came from, but it just felt right. Given, I'm probably a terrible person for writing this, but… It's definitely powerful in my opinion. Dry your tears folks. You have my love.


	8. The Coping

**Author's Note: **To assuage any fears for my readers, it does get better. I promise. Percy is not a bad father, just a little misguided. Everything will be alright, in the end.

Roxanne was the only one of her cousins who could see the pain of the others. Perhaps everyone was blinded by the pain of watching Lucy hurt, or maybe they were all just swarmed with the tension that enveloped them all. But Roxanne could see.

She knew Lily very, very well. They had plan Quidditch together for as long as either could remember, and despite the fact that Roxanne was a year older, she understood her cousin. They had the same fire that burned determinedly in their bellies. That was why it was so easy for Roxanne to see that Lily was just trying to feel something. That was the only reason her witty, beautiful cousin would settle for dating an asshole like Robbie Finnegan.

It was a new relationship, born most likely out of her distress over Teddy and to bring her out of her stupor. It was moving too fast with too much of a thick-headed bastard.

Roxanne sat beside Lorcan and Dominique in the kitchen of the Burrow, watching the scene take place. Lily was faking a laugh as Robbie kissed her neck, muttering something that sounded entirely inappropriate to her family. Lorcan made a disgusted noise and put his head down on the table.

"Lysander isn't sleeping," he whispered softly. Dominique laid a hand on his back and he worked to hide a shiver. "Not with that bastard's hands all over her."

Roxanne nodded silently, watching Robbie's hands dip far too low on her younger cousins body. "This isn't right. What the bloody hell is she thinking?"

Dominique continued to rub Lorcan's back gently, watching his body relax notably. "She isn't thinking. That's the thing. This is all pain."

Lorcan groaned, "I'm sick of watching him mope around and avoid her. Just two weeks ago she was curled up in his lap and he thought she was really starting to… Want him. Love him, you know? What changed?"

Dominique gazed at him with sympathetic eyes, "Everything changed, Lor. Everything."

She stood, holding out her hand. "Let's take a walk. There's too much tension in here. Think you can hold down the fort, Rox?" Roxanne nodded, no longer paying attention to what her best friend was saying, her eyes balanced protectively on Robbie's hands. She found herself wondering if Rose knew what constituted "extenuating circumstances" in the magical doctrine so that she could hex Finnegan into oblivion.

Lorcan, feeling sparks bubbling in his veins as he let his fingers slide over hers, stood, his knees nearly buckling as he allowed himself to be pulled out of the kitchen. Roxanne smiled morbidly. _At least someone's happy, around here._

* * *

Lily's mind was nothing but darkness. It was no wonder to her now why the Sorting Hat nearly placed her in Slytherin. Conniving. Manipulative. Damaged. That pretty much summed up her actions as of late.

She knew what she was doing with Robbie was wrong, but at least she felt something. Sure, it was hatred for his greasy hands on her skin and it was guilt from the looks her family was giving her, but at least it was sensation of some sort. Even Teddy, oblivious fool as he was, had cornered her about what was going on.

She had refused to speak to him. She didn't dare give him that satisfaction.

So she let Robbie do as he pleased. He out his hands all over her and made her hate herself. He kissed her in ways that no guy had been allowed to do before, and she felt sick. He tried to push her forward to the black abyss of intimacy, but she fought him for everything she was worth.

It had only been two weeks since Lucy's relapse, and she didn't know how else to cope. She, along with the rest of her family, blamed herself. Nobody had seen Aubrey in days. She practically lived at the hospital, refusing to leave her daughter's side. Rumor had it that Percy hadn't come into work in ages. Making up for lost time, he had told George.

Molly was taking it worse of all though. Henry Zabini was the only one who could even get near her, and even then he came back with little progress, trying to heal his heartbroken love.

Robbie's lips on her collarbone drew her thoughts away from Lucy and Molly and Teddy all together. That was, after all, his only purpose to her now. A distraction.

"Come on babe," he seemed to be continuing a thought process that she had been missing. "Let's have a go, alright? Shag a bit? Your parent's aren't home."

He began to let kisses trail over her shoulder, and Lily felt her gag reflex acting up. "No, Rob. I don't want that."

Robbie snorted, biting too hard on her shoulder, "Yes you do."

Lily felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She didn't like him telling her what she wanted or what she should do. It felt dirty, wrong. She fought away the vulnerability, turning her body to face him as he put pressure against her stomach, pushing her against the cabinets.

"You know that I don't, alright?" She kissed him then, a little to hard and a little to desperate, desperate to keep him from speaking anymore. He gladly submitted, chuckling into her open mouth.

"I never expected you to be a hard nut to crack, Potter, but you certainly are." She didn't like that. He had expected her to just give in. That made her feel worse of all.

But at least it was something.

He pulled away then, mouthing her some excuse about having to go meet his dad for a drink, but she knew that was bollocks. He went off to go see his other girls that he kept on the side, his more willing victims. She wanted to pretend like she cared, but she couldn't lie that well.

When he was gone, she let her head slam back to the cabinets. Closing her eyes, Lily could pretend that everything was different, that she wasn't so confused. She didn't know why she felt like she did. She wasn't even hurting over Teddy and Victoire anymore. They loved one another, so what? She wouldn't be able to hold on to Teddy forever, but she'd known that, hadn't she? Her emotions had become so twisted and mangled, she didn't know what was leading her where or why. She just followed her misguided mind to whatever future laid ahead.

When she opened her eyes, she found Roxanne, having been sitting at the dining table to watch the whole scene. In her own embarrassment, Lily's gaze dropped to the floor, but she could practically feel the pity resonating off of her cousin.

Suddenly, the room felt too hot, too tight, and she turned, walking out onto the front porch, tucking her knees under her chin and trying to breathe steady for the first time in what felt like years.

Her eyes meandered over to the garden, listening to the silence around her. She found there a tuft of blonde hair and a strong, muscled young man watching her. Her best friend, who had taken to avoiding her as of late. In his face hung the most unimaginable pain in the world. For a brief moment, she truly saw him, truly looked into the eyes that had never left hers, no matter what they had been through. And for that brief moment, she felt loved. She felt whole. She felt more sensation than she would ever be able to understand.

But the strangest part of all was that it was the same sensation she always felt around him, just more noticeable in her duress. He didn't pity her like the others. He didn't treat her like glass in her current state. He just treated her as Lily.

And it occurred to her then that she was hurting the only person who had never hurt her.

* * *

Rose sat firmly on her respective bed in the room she shared with Lily every summer, trying not to let a noise accompany the tears that streamed down her face. She didn't know how to feel, other than lonely. Hugo wouldn't speak to her. Al spent most of his time moping and trying to comfort Lily. James and Fred were gone half the time, just trying to get out of the house. Roxanne, Lorcan and Dom were trying to keep Lysander from losing it over Robbie Finnegan. Victoire and Teddy were still just trying to plan a wedding and bring forth any sort of joy at all, Louis helping them the whole time. And of course, Molly and Lucy were another subject all together. Her parents and the rest of her family were just trying to keep Audrey and Percy afloat; she understood everyone's coping mechanisms.

But Rose only had one coping mechanism, and unfortunately that was forbidden. She would have given anything just to feel Scorpius' laughter, to smile up at him and to know she could always talk to him.

"Remind me," a warm, wonderful voice said, "To tell Al I love him."

No. This had to be a dream. She had to be imagining things. He couldn't be here, in the Burrow, in her room, with her. That was a type of magic she wouldn't understand.

"Scorpius, you are a figment of my imagination." She muttered indignantly, her arms crossed over her chest. She wouldn't believe it.

But his hands gliding through her curls made it very difficult to stay so certain. His fingers brushed over the base of her neck as he pushed her hair gently out of the way and over one shoulder, letting his lips meet the base of her jaw. She muffled the noises that stirred rom her throat.

"If I am a figment of your imagination, then you are incredibly creative." His lips brushed her ear, tugging at her earlobe gently. Rose turned uncertainly; it was still too much to understand.

"But how Scorpius? How are you here?" She cursed herself for sounding so weak.

He pulled her gently against his chest, her knees tucked under her body and his legs splayed out on either side of her. Smiling softly, empathetically, Scorpius let his fingers drift over the curve of her check, the tears being brushed away with his movement. "Mr. Potter said I could come stay with Al. Try to cheer him up. Al, however, told me my services were needed elsewhere."

At that moment, Rose wanted to give Albus everything he had ever wanted and more. She would make sure she was never cruel to her best friend again.

Their lips met, hard, passionately, with every bit of longing and heat that either of them held. They had missed each other more than either could ever physically comprehend. But Rose knew what this meant. She couldn't be this close to him for so long and her family not discover what was going on.

In her heart of hearts, Rose Weasley understood that, no matter how much pain her family was in, she would have to come clean about her personal coping mechanism.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There:) A little love and happiness to lessen the pain of Lucy. And maybe Lily's finally starting to open those pretty little eyes of hers. The next chapter will have quite a bit of humor, so enjoy. Everything's gonna turn out alright, you have my word. You also have my love:)


	9. The Weakness

**Author's Note: **Let's have some humor, shall we? :)

For the first time in what felt like ages, James was giving Freddie a bit of a break to be with Rebecca. Freddie loved his cousin, perhaps considered him one of his closest friends, but more and more the shadow of his late uncle had crept upon him. It was becoming more and more difficult to pretend that it didn't hurt when his father looked at him with that glassy expression.

Fred's dark legs hung in the pool of warm water that sat in the Weasley's more distant acres, secluded by the orchard. He and Roxanne had discovered the pond when they were very young, and he had returned her every time he needed to get away and think for extended periods of time.

Becca's ebony curls splayed out over his thighs. He was always astounded by how astonishingly breath-taking his girlfriend looked in the sunlight. To the common eye, Becca was a very average young woman. Her curves were supple but not mountainous, her eyes warm but commonly brown. She was tall, but not modelesque. She was pretty, but not beautiful.

From the moment Freddie saw her, he knew he would never want anyone else. Given, he was twelve and she was just a Hufflepuff he had seen from across a library table, but Fred was very determined about that sort of thing.

Every member of his family had said it was a passing crush. Four years later, it still hadn't passed.

Becca opened her eyes then, gazing up at him with that classic little smile of hers. "What's on your mind, love? It's not like you to go so long without making some sort of joke."

He smiled. How well she knew him. "Nothing's the matter, Becs. Just a little thoughtful, eh?"

Her smile softened even further and she sat up, sliding beside him. He couldn't help but notice that his leg felt significantly less warm without the pressure of her head. Her hand found his and she brought the back of it to her lips, kissing a scar he had received in a Quidditch accident a few years prior. He couldn't help the fact that she still had the ability to make him shiver.

"You're thinking about your uncle again, yes?" Her lips moved gingerly over the scar and his shoulders tensed at the mention of this subject. They usually withheld a silent agreement not to speak about the issue. Freddie was very practiced in glossing over issues in such a way as not to actually face much pain in his life. Clearly, Rebecca wasn't letting him get away that easily.

"Yes." His answers often became rigid and coarse whenever the subject, however rarely, was broached. His arms flexed with his own discomfort, and this did not go unnoticed.

"Freddie," her slender fingers brushed over his jawline as she reached up to turn his head to look at her. His deep, ocean blue eyes were electric against his the contrast of his tan skin. "You don't have to be anyone. You don't have to be your uncle."

He felt walls begin to crumble. "It's what he expects of me."

"No one expects anything of you, Freddie-"

"I just want to make my father proud, okay?" His chest heaved with the weight of finally saying it, despite the fact that he had rather rudely cut his girlfriend off. His eyes dropped as he realized what he had done, but her fingers never left his jaw. Opening his mouth to apologize, Fred let his eyes drift back to hers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

But Becca was smiling that warm, classic smile of hers and his heart felt lifted. "Weasley, you always mean to shout. Get off your arse."

The time for solemnity was gone. He had gotten it out of his system, and now that the time had passed, it was time that his girlfriend demonstrated her specialty: making Freddie Billius Weasley laugh.

She was on her feet in a flash, agile as always, popping up a nearby tree and standing on the uppermost limb. "Come and get me, Freddie!"

His smile was explosive as his beautiful girlfriend bubbled up the branches, begging to be chased. Being seventeen, he pulled his wand from his pocket and charmed the tree to sprout voluminous blooms all around her, pushing her off the tree. He laughed as she lost her balance for a moment, swaying uncertainly.

They began charming the area around one another, laughter echoing in their sanctuary. So much for a passing crush.

* * *

Dominique stood on the old brick wall that housed the area around the Burrow. It was the only marker to really define where their property began and the wilderness ended. Lorcan's laughter was loud and rambunctious as she demonstrated how incredibly unbalanced she was.

"Damn my Weasley blood," she muttered as she came crunching down onto her rear, snarling in frustration. "You know, my sister would be able to do that without even a touch of difficulty."

"Your sister also has a wand so far up her arse, she walks like a troll." Lorcan rolled back into the wet July grass, laughter rolling through his belly at his own joke.

Dominique rolled over beside him, adding, "No, no, don't give Teddy that much credit." And the laughter only grew louder.

Finally, after having to put pressure on both of their stomachs to ease the pain, silence enclosed the two friends. Lorcan felt as though a heavy plate was sitting on his broad chest. It wasn't often that he and Dominique were by themselves. To be entirely honest, he tried to avoid the idea all together, afraid that he would do something he would regret should they be alone for too long. He wasn't prepared to ruin a friendship for something he knew could never happen.

Suddenly, Dominique was speaking, "Who do you wanna be when you graduate, Lor?"

Loran was, to say the least, slightly shocked by this question. "Well, preferably me, I suppose. I don't know who else I would be."

Dominique let a small giggle escape, batting him gently on the shoulder, "You know what I mean Lorcan. What do you want to be like, I suppose is what I'm asking."

Lorcan paused, letting her question sink in. "I guess I want to be smart. Very smart. I want to be strong too though, not a duffer. I think I want to be a professor at Hogwarts, or maybe another school, depending where I live. I want to go learn about other places, go on adventures and what not. I want to laugh at every opportunity. Maybe I'll be like Mum and Dad, and go on these escapades to discover new magical creatures. That's what I really want: to work with magical creatures. But mostly I want to be happy. Find someone who I can make smile just by existing."

He turned his head and realized she was watching him with that electric grin of hers. It wasn't like her Veela brother or sister; it was full and made the whole room light up with emotion. "You make me smile just by existing Lor. So that's one checkmark."

Lorcan could almost feel the fireworks shooting off in his stomach. "So what about you Dom? Who do you want to be?"

Dominique's voice came out much quieter than he had been expecting, "I want to be my sister. Maybe my brother. I want to be beautiful. I want not to feel like the token weasel in my family. My father is charmingly handsome, my mother is breathtaking, my sister is her spitting image and my bloody brother is Prince Charming incarnate. And I'm just me. I'm not brilliant like them or graceful or any of it. Quidditch is my one high point. I want to be Victoire."

Lorcan stared at them for a long, long moment, then sat up. Dominique watched cautiously as he ran his fingers through his long, chocolatey hair. His muscles were tense with an emotion that shockingly resembled frustration. "Have you lost your mind, Dominique? Honestly. I can't believe you just said that."

Needless to say, Dominique had never been more surprised in her life. It was common knowledge that Lorcan was the gentler twin. He was calmer than his brother, sweeter. He treated everyone as though they were diamonds, some more hidden than others. To hear him call her out was shocking, yet, as she would likely never admit, enticing.

"What's your problem Lorcan?" She was sitting up now too, her resilience sparking immediately, prepared for an argument as always, but all of that came to an abrupt end when Lorcan pressed both of his hands on either side of his face and drew her close to him, pushing her forehead against his.

"My problem is that I don't understand what you're talking about. Are you blind Dom? You're positively radiant. So what if you aren't the most graceful creature to ever walk the earth? You're the best sixth year on a broom. You're hilarious, and while you can be a bit of ditz, it's hilarious, and I know you spend every bit of your free time studying, trying to make your mother proud. You're warm and loving, and I don't know anyone who cares more about the people around her than you. You have this beautiful determination, this fire that draws people to you Dom. Your sister is ice, and people are intimidated by her, and in her respect yeah, that's fine and good. But you? You pull people close without even opening your mouth. You're incredible. You're wonderful and if you can't see that, you're more insane than Lysander."

In that second, Dominique wasn't sure what her driving force was. She couldn't tell anyone. She couldn't even tell herself, honestly. All she knew was in that moment, Lorcan Scamander was the sexiest man alive.

Their lips crashed together with heat, passion and desperation. Lorcan saw spots and whizzing sparks and it was like being in Charms only better. His fingers pushed back into her hair, anchoring her lips to his. Dominique's fingers stretched out, sweeping over his arms and up his shoulders, touching the bare skin that she found there and leave a warm trail of invisible flames erupting from her hands. She was shaking in his arms, incapable of making sense of anything she was doing and loving it. She wasn't in control for once. She didn't have to hide anything, she could just kiss him and know that she was adored. And as his warm, smooth lips moved with hers, she thought she might just be able to stay this way forever.

Of course, seconds later Dominique DID realize that she was kissing one of her best friends and a boy that was younger than her.

She pulled away suddenly, gaping at him. His eyes were dark and hungry and though she wouldn't admit it, it occurred to her that she should kiss him again if he would look at her like that.

No words were said, but Lorcan slowly gained recognition of what was happening. It was a heat of the moment mistake on her part. She hadn't meant to kiss him. He was her mistake.

He dropped his hands instantly, respecting her space. His throat was suddenly very dry. He couldn't make sentences, let alone begin to apologize.

Finally, Dominique whispered, "Thank you for making me feel better. Sorry I ruined it."

And then she was gone, walking away with her head down, wondering why, despite the fact that she should feel weak that the only reason she had kissed him was because he had managed to make her feel important, she felt strong. Free. Wild.

That had been the reason she had kissed him… Right?

* * *

Lysander walked silently through the upper level of the Burrow where most of the children stayed during the summer. He and his brother Lorcan shared a room at the very end of the North hall, right beside Rose and Lily's. As he passed, he caught a glance of gold hair and auburn curls in Rose's bed, and he brought a small chuckle to his lips. Of course. It had only been a matter of time until Scorpius and Rose got together. However, he decided to use his discretion and not say a word. That would be an ordeal in and of itself.

His feet carried him into his room and he shut the door to a crack, before sitting silently on his bed.

He missed her, that was no secret. He loved Lily, not just in the romantic sense but in so many other ways as well. She was his best friend, his biggest competition, his everything. And watching her fade into an area of gray displeasure made him woozy.

There was a squeak as the door opened, but no one spoke.

And then, a voice. "Hello Lysander."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I am so incredibly excited about this next chapter. It was actually the chapter I had envisioned when I began this little escapade. Of course, it turned a bit more in depth than I had thought, but I'm still looking forward to it. I hope you enjoyed the immense amount of love and laughter in this chapter, because next chapter is probably going to make you squirm with awkwardness. On the upside, you have my love.


	10. The Sensation

**Author's Note: **Oh God I am so excited:) This chapter, in all its glory, is to the one who broke her rule just for Lily and Lysander. Avalon Heart, I pray you enjoy this as much as I do.

Lysander froze. His body stiffened with all the speed of a rocketing bludger, his blood icy and cold, yet his face felt warm with a blush.

The drunken slur from behind him drew nearer, hissing in a sultry voice, "You can't avoid me anymore. I'm done playing games."

While every decent bone in Lysander's body screamed at him, begged him to stop this before it could get bad quickly, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of heat peak into his ears. He had never heard her speak that way before. Only in his dreams.

"Lily," her name left his lips in a breath, and he realized very suddenly just how much power she had over him.

She gave a warm, firewhiskey coated laugh, "Don't sound so nervous, Ly. It's only me. Only little Lily Luna Potter."

He shivered, turning slowly to face her. She was so close, yet in her eyes he could see her mind was a million miles away, stuck in the numb abyss that she now called home, darkened by a level of pain only he could understand.

For as Lily had lost the man she had loved, Lysander lost her everyday.

She sidled closer to him, incredibly elegantly for someone so evidently intoxicated. "Explain something to me, Lysander Scamander. Why are you avoiding me?"

His blush deepened and he swallowed, running his hand up and down his left thigh. Anything to stop him from reaching out and touching her. "My classically hilarious and devastatingly true comments on the mating habits of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack didn't seem needed."

She didn't laugh. She only looked at him with those perfect brown eyes.

"You are needed Lysander."

His face was becoming exceptionally hot now. The way she said that gave him the feeling that she wasn't just looking for emotional support. His tongue flicked over his lips and he rubbed his thigh harder.

"What are you saying Lily?"

She moved so that she was standing right in front of where he sat, laying a hand over his shoulder. "I miss you, Lysander," her voice was softer now. More careful. Perhaps she wasn't as drunk as she appeared. "I miss you, and I need help. I don't want to feel nothing. And you're the only person who's never hurt me. I need you."

His fingers twitched with the incredible need to reach out and hold her. His voice was much gruffer now, "I'm here for you. I'm always here for you."

And then she did something that even he couldn't see coming.

She rested another hand on his shoulder, pulling herself soundly into his lap, her knees on either side of him now, straddling him. "Make me feel something Lysander."

Her breath hit his lips. He no longer could see anything but Lily, feel anything but Lily. This was a dream come true, was it not? Sure, it was spurred by alcohol and pain but this was everything he had ever wanted.

But he couldn't bring himself to take advantage of her. He couldn't hurt her.

"No, Lily." His hands rested innocently on her sides and he pushed himself out from under her and as far away as he could manage, knowing that he couldn't afford to doubt himself even for a minute.

She stared at him for a long, long time. She couldn't believe this. Even if it was evident that he didn't feel anything extraordinary, it wasn't like a boy to turn away from her. Challenging as always, Lysander Scamander.

"Ly, I'm practically offering myself up on an silver platter. Don't be an idiot." She moved back toward him them, stumbling over her knees slightly in her drunken state.

The more he watched her, the more resolute he stood in his decision. He loved her. She wasn't just some slampiece to him. He was truly in love with her, and he knew that she was in no condition to feel his love.

"Lily, I'm not going to do something you'll regret tomorrow."

She snorted, standing up and throwing her hands up, wobbling. He rushed to her, putting a hand on her side, supporting her. "Fucking Robbie Finnegan would. Why won't you?"

Her voice was a loud shout. Strong. Emotional. She almost sounded like Lily again. Tears glistened in her eyes, electric. They no longer were dulled. He couldn't help but smile.

"Because I actually care about you." He leaned forward, kissing her forehead gently. This was not an unusual gesture for him. Whenever she was too frustrated with his delusions or his musings, he would kiss her forehead to calm her down and bring her out of her heated cloud. Instantly, he felt her relax.

"He doesn't care about me. Why do I always go for guys who don't give a damn, Ly?" Lily eased her body into his. She let a hand travel up his chest to toy with the collar of is shirt, unbuttoned slightly. She noticed the shiver that this elicited and was shocked at how satisfying it felt to make him shiver.

Lysander brushed a stray hair behind her ear, whispering close to her, "If I knew the answer to that, you wouldn't be with them."

She shivered. Why did she feel this way all of a sudden? He was her best friend. Her insane, hilarious, and albeit sexy best friend. She didn't want to start something he couldn't finish.

"Listen," his lips drew her attention once more, "Why don't you head back to your room? It's getting late now. I don't want your parents seeing you blast-ended drunk, alright?"

She didn't know what made her say it, but the words came so easily that she just couldn't help herself. They flowed from her like water, pure and simple. The best part was she didn't regret them once they were out.

"Let me stay here? With you?"

He watched her cautiously. His eyes searched hers, but she didn't sound as drunk now, and that fire that he loved so much was back. She was warm in his hands, real. She was alive, here with him. And she sounded like she really did need him. Wanted him. He only had one option.

"Use Lorcan's bed. He doesn't sleep up here usually, anyway."

She seemed to sparkle, her soft smile an unusual sight in his eyes. Graceful as she was, she was nothing if not wild. Untamed. This was a smile she used scarcely, and feeling it shine in his direction was almost too much to handle.

He watched her slowly crawl into the bed across from his, curling up in the sheets, letting a breath he had been holding for Merlin knows how long leave his lips. She was going to be the death of him.

He collapsed down onto the bed, rolling away from the other bed, trying desperately to get his thoughts off the girl with the flaming red hair.

But Lily wasn't having that.

She didn't like the way it felt to be alone in another bed. She had never laid in bed with a boy before, but something in her gut told her that if she didn't crawl in beside Lysander, she would lose it.

So that's just what she did.

He felt her slowly nestle in against his back, her arms wrapping tentatively around his waist. Lysander felt his breath catch in his throat.

He turned with all the speed of a land tortoise, afraid that if he moved to quickly, she would be gone. "Lily…" His voice held caution, a nervousness that should have sept into her. But Lily had never felt more comfortable in her life.

"Oh shut up, Lysander. I'm not that drunk. Now put your arms around me and hold me."

Never one to argue, Lysander wrapped his arms gently around her tiny body, pulling her ever closer, and tucked her head against his neck, feeling as though his whole body was hooked up to an electrical outlet. He had never been happier.

Neither struggled too terribly after that, slipping off to sleep in the comfort of one another's arms…

* * *

Lily awoke for the first time in just under a month without the fear of her nightmares or the soft cries of her cousin. She woke in an unimaginable warmth, feeling safe for the first time in ages. She snuggled close to the warmth, hazily trying to remember when she had held onto her pillow so tightly.

It was about that moment that her "pillow" made a soft, contented sight close to her forehead, a sound that belonged quite exclusively to her best friend.

It was all she could do not to gasp loudly. The memories of the night before came flooding back as the sunshine beamed in on their bodies.

It was true what she had said. Robbie Finnegan would have absolutely taken advantage of her that previous night without even an inkling of guilt. Lysander had forcibly restrained both himself, and her.

_Because I actually care about you. _The words hung in her mind like a shining beacon of light. Of course he actually cared about her. He had always been there for her, even at her worse. Even when they had both caught a cold from sitting in the rain. Even when she had ruined countless numbers of his shirts with tears. Even when she had yelled at him. Even when he was so hurt by what she had said to him in the heat of the moment. He had always cared, more than anyone else.

He had always loved her.

She didn't need to ask herself what the feeling was in her stomach. It was unidentifiable. It was a total mystery and she couldn't put a name to it if she tried. And for the first time in so long, she felt something other than numb.

He cared about her. And she had never cared about anyone like this before.

His eyes opened slowly. Through the tears that were now streaming down her cheeks, she found soft laughter. He was positively the most handsome thing she had ever seen. Ruffled honey hair hung over his forehead, not quite shielding his silver-violet eyes as they looked up at the ceiling with the most beautiful look of contentment she had ever seen.

She loved him. Nothing had ever been more obvious to her in her life.

His head turned gently down to face her, and she felt shivers trace down her spine as he gave her that silly, lopsided smile of his. Her fingers absentmindedly traced her name on his stomach through the cotton of his shirt.

With one look, even in his drowsy state, Lysander could see what was about to happen. He saw a new emotion that, now that he thought about it, wasn't so new at all. It had always been there, in her eyes. Just now, she seemed to notice it too.

He drew a hand to her cheek, wiping away a trail of soft tears.

No words needed to be said. They understood each other perfectly, as they always had. As they always would, as far as they were concerned.

In the warm light of the sun, magnified through the window, with Lily leaning up and Lysander leaning down, perfectly in balance, their lips met, making both of them feel more than either could ever have dreamed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **My heart is so elated with this chapter. Oh man oh man oh man. I hope this made all of you as happy as it made me. But, my friends, we're not done yet. Not even close. You all have my love.


	11. The Memory

**Author's Note:** Guys, I would like to apologize first and foremost for not updating for so long. Between beginning work on a new project of my own original story line, I've been so busy. But, I've returned with a vengeance, I promise:)

Needless to say, Robbie Finnegan was never to be seen around the Burrow again. Lily was grinning brighter than she had for months now, and as Lysander reached for her in a way he'd never before had the strength to, a beacon of hope was lit, even for Scorpius and Rose. Laughter, however subtle and cautious as it may have been, had risen back into the Burrow's heart.

Still, Freddie wasn't laughing. Becca had elected to join the rest of the girls on a quick shopping spree in town, and had been gone for quite some time. While the other boys had taken this time to play a quick scrimmage of Quidditch, Freddie somehow couldn't bring himself to join them. It was days like this that he most hurt for answers and for the pride of his father.

"Uncle Fred," his voice quivered, his body feeling unnaturally cold in the heat of July's sticky air. "Uncle Fred, if you can hear me, wherever you are, will you just teach me how to be… A hero? I don't know how to make him proud, Uncle Fred. I don't know how to fill the void you left. It's been so many years but I know he still misses you. But I don't know how to be you, so please, please Merlin just teach me."

His shoulders shook for only a moment as he fought for control. His face crumpled into a look of pain. Despite himself, Freddie could feel himself falling apart. His handsome, mocha skin cracked as a strangled sob peaked off his lips. He balled his fists as tightly as possible, resting one against his forehead and wrapping the other arm around his quivering middle. He didn't want to seem like a child. He was seventeen, to old to still be crushed in the shadow of his uncle.

Unbeknownst to Freddie, his father leaned against the tree behind him. One hand rested on the scuffle of his beard and the other itched to reach out to his only son. He couldn't bring himself to understand what was wrong. Freddie was so chipper, usually. It was unlike him to fall apart in such a way, and in his shock George found himself unable to respond.

Finally, as Freddie's cries became even more pained, George could hold himself back no longer. He took a step away from the trunk of the tree, hoarsely choking out, "Son, there's no need to cry."

Freddie jumped at the sound of his father's voice, blanching palely as he realized who was speaking to him. "Dad! Dad, I-"

George sat beside the young man, resting his arms across the flats of his knees. "Freddie, son, don't make excuses. Just tell me what's wrong."

His son found himself growing silent. He had never broached this particular subject with his father. He had never really discussed the internal pain of living in a war hero's shadow and trying to fill his void.

Never one for silence, Freddie found himself resigning to rambles. "Dad, it's just that I want to be Uncle Fred because he seems like he was such a good man and you know, I just want to be a good man like him and I want to make you so bloody proud Dad but it's so hard because I always feel like I can't and listen I just don't know if I want to run the shop I mean that's James' dream but I really want to write for the Prophet and I guess that sounds silly to you because Uncle Fred would never say such bollocks but it's what I love Dad and I want it to be what you love for me and Dad please stop looking at me like that!"

Gasping for breath, Freddie suddenly realized he felt a little lighter.

George, on the other hand, felt as though a ton of bricks had been dropped on his chest. His only son, his boy felt as though, if he didn't follow in his uncle's footsteps, his own father wouldn't be proud of him.

There was silence as Freddie regained control, before finally, he whispered, "Just say something, anything."

George let his ocean blue eyes rest on his son's face. While his skin tone was more of his mother's, his facial structure was like looking in a mirror. Narrow Weasley cheeks and a long nose that looked so much like George's late brother pointed towards the ground, to ashamed to look at his father.

"Son, how long have you felt this way?"

Freddie thought about that one for a long moment, before replying, "Every day since I was eight, and I realized that when you look at me, you're looking for Uncle Fred too."

It was as though his ear was being sliced off all over again. Losing track of the moment, George found himself drifting back to earlier days, when he had let his head fall into Angelina's lap when they had begun discussing the possibility of children.

"_I'll be a shit father, Ang; it's that simple." _He had groaned for hours, fearing that his childish disposition would impair him from being the father his children would deserve. Still, the day Freddie had been born had been the most wonderful day of his life, and he had almost heard Fred whisper, _Good on you Forge. I'm proud. _

And George had been proud every day since then. Now, he realized that every moment of those precious seventeen years, his son had not realized that pride.

"Freddie," his voice was even hoarser, crackling with an emotion he was too macho to let show. "Freddie, how could a father not be proud of a son like you?"

Freddie paused. This had not been a reaction he had braced himself for. Insufferable disappointment, he had readied himself for that. Fury, he could have dealt with. But when he found it in himself to curiously look back into eyes that matched his own, the emotion he met there was something he was certainly not ready for.

He couldn't speak. His mouth had run dry. He swallowed hard, but begged with his eyes for his father to continue.

George closed his eyes, almost praying for Fred to give him the words he had never been good with. "Son, I loved your uncle very much. He was my twin brother, and we could finish each other's sentences. I don't look at you to find him, I look at you because I have found him. You are so like your uncle, Freddie. Always able to make the world light up. So many way, Freddie. So many."

Freddie felt a hot surge run through his blood. "But Dad, what if I don't wanna be Uncle Fred?"

George shook his head, almost woefully, "You're not Fred, son. You're you."

Sparks of emotion that had gone without being rendered began to spill out of Freddie, "What the bloody Hell is that supposed to even mean Dad? Be honest, I can't make you proud! I mean, not without going off and being a war hero. But there isn't a war anymore, Dad! I can't save anyone, eh? I can't be any more than just me, and I know that's not good enough for you! I can tell."

George was choking up now, and he cursed himself for not being better with words. "I will always be proud of you. It doesn't matter if you go off to war. It doesn't matter if you don't want to run the bloody shop. Freddie, you're a fantastic son, you understand? You're funny, bloody talented on a broomstick and you're the best man I know at Exploding Snaps. I mean, Merlin I'm no good with emotion, ya see?"

Freddie couldn't help but laugh and rib his father roughly, his anger ebbing away as he realized he had been wrong all along. He didn't dare let George see the tears sparkling in his eyes. "I get it Dad."

George smiled brightly, putting an arm affectionately around his son. "Listen, I think you should go write for the Prophet. I do; it's about time that paper printed something of worth. And I think you should marry Becca, at some point. Stop worrying about me, alright boy? The spot your uncle left is a scar that will never be repaired; that's not your job Freddie. You are my son, and the best one I have, oy?"

Silence fell between them. Freddie felt lighter than he had in years. His father was proud of him. His father didn't expect a war hero. His father loved him for exactly who he was. And for a moment, they didn't feel like just two, but three. Like Fred himself had settled beside them, a smile on his narrow face, laughter in his bold eyes. Freddie, suddenly, began to believe that maybe his uncle would be proud of him as well.

Finally, George tapped his son's head, grinning brightly, "I believe your cousins are off to play a game. I think you should join them. Malfoy can't defend that goal post without a beater to protect him."

There was something alight in Freddie, and he found himself really laughing for what felt like ages. "You know what Dad, I think you're right."

Freddie got to his feet, brushing off his jeans and quickly summoning his broom and bat. As he turned to run out to the make shift pitch, he stopped. He looked back down at his father, his hair thinly cropped and his battle scars faded and aged. Freddie realized that he was the son of a great man, the nephew of many a great men. And a voice in Freddie's heart whispered, a glint shining audibly in it's tone, _You are a great man, too, Freddie. _He could almost swear that the voice belonged to his father, but it was younger, still filled with mirth. Had Freddie known better, or perhaps simply thought better of it, he would have realized that the voice was that of his namesake himself.

A screech of brooms whipping through the air and shouts of light obscenities wrapped in laughter brought Freddie out of his reverie. He grinned, looking up as his cousins flew high above him.

"Go, son. Go." George's smile softened as he watched Freddie kick off, his bat gripped tightly in his hand as he shouted after his best mates, easily soaring to match their pace.

George sat there against the tree for a long time, his eyes closed, a soft and somber smile playing on his lips. It had been here, under this tree, that he and Fred had tested their very first Weasley's Wizard Wheezes product. Of course, Fred's eyebrows had been slightly singed, but they had laughed until their bellies hurt with joy. A warm wind whipped against George's cheek, and he felt happy. Happy for his wonderful son and his brilliant daughter. Happy for his beautiful wife. Happy for his surviving family. Happy that his brother still lived in his memory.

After he had sat for what he felt was an appropriate time, George stood, tucking his hands into his pocket and whistling the funeral march: Fred's favorite song.

The sun shined down on the Burrow and it's land, and somewhere in another universe, a man with Ginger hair and a smiling disposition laughed heartily, smiling down on his brother.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I had forgotten how much I missed Fred until I actually wrote this chapter… No, pshh… I'm not crying… Well, I hope you enjoyed this bit of happy Father/Son bonding for a belated Father's Day present. I promise I won't wait so long to update next time. As always, you have my love.


	12. The Rebellion

**Author's Note: **Let me fill your hearts with my infinite apologies for not updating in so long. I promise to bring this story to an end soon. I won't let you all down. :) I've been really looking forward to this chapter as well. However, all of you will just have to wait one more chapter to hear how Rose and Scorpius come out to their parents. And some other super dramatic and emotion filled moments. There's just one little issue that still needs to be cleared up first.

Dominique was at the end of her rope. It seemed as though she was spending half of her summer cleaning the blood off of Hugo's body and the other half fretting over Lorcan Scammander, which was simply unacceptable.

He was, after all, a year and a half younger than her. Not to mention her best friend. Not to mention practically family, just like Teddy.

Just like Teddy.

Dominique took a wild and sweeping push with her foot, directly into the base of an old oak in the garden. Was that why she was feeling this way about Lorcan? Trying to live up to the shadow of Victoire yet again?

_She fell in love with a family friend, therefore her little sister should too, eh? _Dominique bitterly began pounding her fists against the bark. She was furious, but not for the reasons that she should be. She was furious at herself, because ever since her lips touched Lorcan's, she'd been nearly obsessing over him.

Letting her body slink down to the roots of the tree, Dominique closed her eyes and finally gave into her own deep desires. She let her mind slip back to that moment that gleamed so evidently behind her eyes. Soft, dark chocolate hair fell over her thin fingers as, as if by some magnetic force, he drew her in closer and she let herself have him. Warm cheeks brushed against hers as their lips moved, despite their inexperience, in sync. Flushed noses bumping intimately with their motion. Hands, desperate to hold on to the moment, keeping them plated together. But most importantly, the very being of one Lorcan Scammander as he, a fifteen year old boy, captivated her.

"Dom?" She didn't open her eyes. She knew the voice. Her favorite aunt was close now, most likely having come out to the garden to fetch a batch of drying clothes. Red hair spilled messily out of the bone she had piled up at the crown of her hair, and Dominique watched Ginny push a strand out of her eyes as she bent to put the laundry bin on the ground. "Is everything all right?"

Dominique wanted to lie, to say that it was always quite alright. She was always quite alright. But when it came to her Aunt Ginny, she simply couldn't manage it. "No, no everything's sodden off to Hell Aunt Gin."

A bit stunned by that sudden admission, Ginny moved over to the tree and sat beside her niece, smoothing her hand over the young girl's pony tail. "Care to tell me about it, love?"

_Where on Earth would I begin? _Dominique calculated every issue in her mind, trying to boil them down to the real problems. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath through her nose, and set in.

"I absolutely hate myself Aunt Gin. Victoire is so beautiful, Louis is so charming, everyone in this family is so… Something! What am I? I'm the tomboyish little sister of one of the best Head Girl's Hogwarts has ever seen! I keep standing in their shadows with my silly orange hair and my ridiculously loud voice and my clumsy feet! They're so perfect, and I'm so not. Mum and Dad deserve so much better than me, but I'm doing the best I can. But the best I'm doing right now? This isn't me! I keep letting Victoire do my hair or wearing the dresses my mother picks out for me, and Merlin knows I'm trying to learn French but it's so bleeding hard! I just don't feel like me! All I want to do is play Quidditch and drink butterbeer with Roxy and _have fun _Aunt Gin!"

Miserably, Dominique pushed her head down into the hot skin of her palms, cradling the tears that struggled to splash on the earthen ground. She gasped quietly and her shoulders shook. Ginny silently continued to toy with the girl's silken hair.

"And then there's ruddy Hugo, whom I love dearly, and he keeps getting into these bloody fights! But I wasn't supposed to tell you that, his mother would absolutely die… But I can trust you, right? Yes, of course I can. It's you, after all. But he's always sulking about, waiting to bust someone's nose open, begging to prove himself. And I know it's all because of Rose and how distant she's been lately, and I don't really understand but I'm the only one he'll talk to and I'm trying to be so bloody strong for him, but I simply can't do this forever. I can't mother a man when I can barely take care of myself! He needs Rose. He needs to talk to his parents. I love him, but he's falling heavy on my shoulders, Aunt Gin."

She was shaking vividly now, her body wracked with the sobs that had never actually found their way from her lips until that moment. Ginny pulled her close, no longer able to just watch her fall apart.

"But the worst part of all is that I love _him _of all people! Lorcan! Blimey, did I just say that out loud? I love him, do I? Well… Well that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it? Me loving him? He's so much younger, and he deserves so much better than the broken little Weasley girl who's only real endowment is her handling of a broomstick. I mean, for Merlin's sake, how could I ever trap him this way? Because I see those eyes and I've felt those lips and I know he'll never leave me if I only ask him to stay and I want to so badly but how could I? How could I possibly do that to him? I just don't want to hurt anyone else."

Struggling to control her breathing, Dominique swallowed shakily. "And I'm so selfish. I'm so selfish because poor Lu's in the hospital and I'm so scared for her and Molly and Uncle Perce and Aunt Aubrey and everyone. But this feels real and scary and I don't feel like me except when I kissed him and it's all so strange Aunt Gin. I just don't know how to be me."

And with that, there was silence. Ginny surveyed the girl. Hair that was a soft, blonde sort of red, not fiery like her own, but beautiful all the same stared back at her. A pony tail that looked so familiar to her glared back, jerking her back to being seventeen years old, struggling to figure out who to be in a sea of boys.

Ginny brushed the hair from her niece's face, then cupped her cheek and smiled.

"Darling, have I ever told you why I went and joined the Holyhead Harpies fresh out of school?"

Dominique shook her head despairingly, her eyes glued hopelessly to her aunt's face.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny looked out over the back pastures and squeezed Dominique's shoulder. "I was seventeen and terrifyingly in love with one Harry Potter. He had just become an Auror, alongside your Uncle Ron. Hermione had begun work in the Ministry. Everyone was growing up, but I didn't know who to be. The only thing I knew how to do was fight a war, play Quidditch, and love my boyfriend. So, with one of those options now null and void, I did the next best set. I joined the Harpies. And it was fantastic. I absolutely loved it. For five years before my children were born and then another seven after their births, I played Quidditch, and loved every moment of it. But in time, I grew out of it. I took a job in the Sports Comissioners department, and now I'm the Head."

Ginny looked down at the misty eyed young girl, a strong grin not unlike Dominique's stinging her cheeks. "What I'm telling you is this Dom. Be who you are. Play Quidditch, if that's what you really want. Your parents love you; they'll always be proud of you. Your siblings will feel the same. But at the end of the day, all that matters is that you be you. Do the things you love, and you'll find happiness."

It sounded so simple when her aunt said it, and in that moment, Dominique saw how truly simple it was. Painful, perhaps a little. But simple.

"As for Hugo, give Rosie her time. She'll come out with it. You know she can't keep secrets from the people she loves most for long. All will end well. And Lorcan? Well, my daughter seems very taken with his twin. I can't think of a better set of boys. And if you really care about him? A year and a half really won't matter. Just follow that Gryffindor heart of your's, and I know it'll lead you in the right direction."

Ginny stood, brushing off her slacks and picking up the bin, before smirking down at Dominique once more, adding, "And I think it's time you had a talk with your family. They need to know how you feel. About everything."

Dominique watched Ginny's aunt retreat, before slouching back against the trunk, running her hands over her face. Perhaps it WAS time for a bit of a confession.

* * *

Her opportunity to have this talk came swiftly and relentlessly. As her sister's maid of honor, she had been busied at almost every flick of the wand, and she was on the verge of losing it.

"Honestly, Dominique, could you please just consider this dress? Cesser d'agir comme un bébé…"

Dominique really wasn't certain whether it was the biting tone of the French or it's actual translation, but either way, she dropped the load of parchment Victoire had just plopped into her lap and expected her to deal with. Dominique couldn't take it any further. Enough was enough.

"Bloody Hell, Vic, just shut the hell up and listen to something other than your own voice for once!"

Silence fell where a bustling kitchen had once stood. Distantly, Dominique thought she could hear her aunt Ginny breathe, "This wasn't what I had in mind," but she ignored it. She was doing this her way.

Victoire's beautiful face was covered with a look of pure shock. In all of her Ravenclaw wit, her mouth hung open, and she could say nothing more than, "Excuse me?"

Dominique straightened her shoulder and hissed, "You heard me, Victoire. I love you, and I'm so bloody happy for you, but you're trying to fit all of this to be perfect! You're trying to fit me to be perfect, but your idea of perfect is a miniature you!"

Victoire scowled slightly. "It IS my wedding. I don't see what you mean; what have I done to hurt you?"

With a sigh, her younger sister breathed, "Nothing, intentionally. But every time you criticize my hair, my clothes, my friends, my LIFE, I feel like I'm not good enough. Not good enough for this wedding or this family. If you want your sister as your Maid of Honor, then treat me like your sister. Embrace who I am, not who you are."

Louis stood from the kitchen table, wrapping an arm around a stricken-looking Victoire. "You've said enough Dominique. Let this go."

A flame burned deep in her belly. Of course he would take her side. He always did. "Who the hell are you to tell me what to do Louis? My big brother? Or a man who's been looking down his nose at me ever since he graduated? I'm not effortlessly graceful or charming like you or Victoire; that ship has bloody well sailed. I'm just me, and I think that's okay. Why don't you? Why are you both trying to fix me all the time?"

There was silence. Louis looked like he was now supporting most of Victoire's weight. And then, meekly, Louis whispered, "Do you really think we aren't proud? That our parent's aren't proud? That either of us don't wish we could light up a room the way you do? No one ever spoke of us the way they speak of you. No one ever laughed at our jokes. We don't have your passion or your brilliance. We practically revere you. How could you not believe that?"

Feeling a bit squeamish, Dominique dropped her head, and murmured, "You sure have a funny way of showing it, don't you? You spend your time criticizing my every move. I can't be perfect. I can only be me. Just tell me that's enough, alright?"

The silence was broken only by Victoire, who finally stood away from their brother and walked cautiously over to her younger sister. She put her hand on her sister's neck, pulling her forehead close to her own. Then, with tears misting her eyes, she whispered, "Tu as toujours été suffisant…"

Her heart filled. She may not have been fluent, but Dominique knew exactly what her sister had said. She hugged her close, and then felt Louis' warm arms around her too. The bustle began to pick up, everyone trying to pretend that yet another volcano hadn't gone off in their foyer.

* * *

Later, when Dominique was standing alone on a hill, overlooking the distant fields, she felt a hand tighten around her own. She didn't need to ask who it was or even meet his eyes; she merely needed to make a request.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate in his response. "I'll never leave."

And then, he was holding her, and she was burying her face in his muscular neck and breathing him in, running desperate and confused fingers through his hair, allowing the fire that now burned her up inside guide her emotions. When she pulled back to look at his silvery eyes, he whispered, "You will always be good enough for me."

And she didn't doubt him. For the first time in months, she didn't doubt herself either.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm not certain how I feel about he flow of this one. It gets the point I wanted across, I just don't think it was my best. Alas, enjoy me being back. You have my love.


	13. The Heartbreak

**Author's Note: **Well, here goes. The big climax of this little story. It's crowning glory. Pretty much the most emotional thing I've ever written. I sure hope you enjoy!

Albus sat beside the window sill playing scout for Freddie and James' next prank. Scorpius lounged effortlessly across one of the many weathered sofas, clearly engrossed in conversation with the Scamander brothers. Teddy and Louis, both wrapped up in the boyhood environment around them, had forgotten their age for a moment and now waited along the wall of the kitchen, their eyes narrowly watching the landing above the foyer. They seemed to have something clutched in their hands.

And then, a small pop from just beyond the foyer could be heard. The Scamanders and Scorpius paid this pop no mind; people were always apparating and disapparating in and out of the Burrow at random.

They should have paid better attention.

Just beyond the banister of the first landing stood two young men, their eyes gleaming with mischief. There was nothing James Potter and Freddie Weasley loved more than a well oiled prank. Freddie checked that the coast was clear, and once he had received the approving and subtle nod from Albus winked at James.

James, prepared for this wink, began to wave his wand in a circular motion, a sign to Teddy and Louis.

The two boys in the kitchen shared a small grin, before dropping three very strange items into the sacks they had clutched in their hands. In one, they dropped a silken blonde hair. In another, a dark, chocolate brown eye lash was plopped and in the final sack Teddy added what seemed to be a clipped finger nail.

The final ingredients having been added, the bags began to sizzle threateningly, before Teddy and Louis released them, watching them float up to the landing under James' command.

The bags began to float in the slow circular motion that James' wand was guiding them in. Freddie harbored a sickening smirk on his caramel skin, and, with a quick glance at his watch to be sure the timing was right, he whipped out his own wand and hissed, "Anamalis Transmutas!"

Like a set of three fireworks, purple sparks jutted out of Freddie's wand and directly into the center of the bags, launching them from the circular pattern and into a direct trajectory for their three respective victims.

Lysander and Lorcan were struck by the bags first, as Scorpius was able to jump out of the way at the very last moment. Lysander was immediately transformed into a twittering parrot, its furious squawks peeling out through the entire house, drawing the attention of every occupant. Lorcan, on the other hand, sprouted a beak of his own and a long bit of plumage for a tail, having been mutated into a very unfortunate looking peacock.

Scorpius took to a run around the foyer, trying desperately to avoid the bag that was now chasing him like a rogue bludger, shouting obscenities at Albus who was watching through watery eyes and giggling like a belligerent school girl.

But of course, as it was no secret around Hogwarts, one could not simply outrun a Weasley Wizard Wheeze, especially not one that had been crafted by James and Freddie. Just as Scorpius was vaulting an armchair, the bag hit him squarely in the back, and he was instantly turned into a very, very irritated white ferret.

By this time, nearly the entire family and gathered around the foyer and was doubled over in laughter at the lasted attack by Freddie and James, who at that moment had apparated into the center of the room and were bowing ostentatiously.

"Just like his old man, eh Georgie? Harry?" Ron elbowed his brother and best friend, who were laughing hardest of all.

George gave Harry a hearty slap on the back, his grin wild. "Your boy's gonna make a great addition to the Wheezes family, Harry!"

As James turned from high-fiving Freddie and thanking Albus, he smirked brilliantly at his father. "It's amazing what you can do with Polyjuice Potion if you only use the dry ingredients, isn't it Fred-o?"

Fred wrapped his arm around his best friend as he snorted, "It certainly is, Jamesy old boy."

* * *

From just beyond the living room bay window, Hugo stood outside, watching the camaraderie. A bit of white hot anger flared in his stomach and he turned on his heel, stomping away.

He wasn't trying to separate himself from his family, but it seemed that, as the summer had progressed, he had been pushing them away. No matter who he decided to spend his time with, he always felt like a burden, his mind filled with his own distressed thoughts, and he would drift off distantly.

Hugo jammed his hands into his pocket and closed his eyes, letting his mind flow back to the summer before.

_Hugo sat on Albus' shoulders, his eye on Dominique, Roxanne and Lily, before muttering, "It's all clear, Al. We're good to go." _

_Just as they were about to slide Albus' invisibility cloak over their heads and commence throwing mud at their cousins, a loud gravely noise erupted behind them, causing them to both squeak in surprise and tumble into the mud puddle at Albus' feet. _

_As Hugo tried to clean the mud out of his ears, he was greeted by a chortling little laugh, which he knew could only belong to one person evil enough to spoil such a great plot. _

"_Oi! Rose! We were just about to launch Operation Mud Bath!" Albus tried aimlessly to toss a bit of mud at his favorite cousin to punctuate his point, but she ducked out of the way easily. Rose was laughing happily, floating on her broom carelessly. _

"_You know Hugo, Al, there's a lot of things a girl sees when she's a hundred feet in the air. I happened to spot to trouble makers about to have their chances of having children completely ruined." _

_Hugo rolled his eyes, his father's grin sparkling on his face. "Oh c'mon Rosie! You wouldn't do that to us!" _

_Rose snorted, swiveling her broom around and waving her arm, a curious motion to the two boys who could not see over the hedge they had been hiding behind. "I wasn't talking about me. I was talking about Dom and Roxanne." _

_Sure enough, Dominique had sprinted over, followed in quick succession by her two other cousins. "What's going on, Rosie?" _

"_Oh, the usual. Two very stupid boys trying to launch mud at their cousins." _

_Roxanne's gaze snapped down at the two muddy boys, her eyes sparking with rage, sending horribly dark shivers down Hugo's back. "You were trying to do what?!" _

_The last thing Hugo heard before he was dunked into the mud once more was his older sister's laugh. _

With a sigh, Hugo shook his head, clearing the happy memory from his mind. He missed the days when he could make his older sister laugh. She had always been his best friend. In his heart, she always would be.

But lately, she hadn't really been acting like it. Hugo hopped onto the stone barrier that circled the Burrow, and laid back on the warm rock. She never asked if he wanted to study, or recommended books, or asked about his day, or even looked like she cared that he was covered in bruises and scratches.

He had thought, deep down in his heart, that if he started fighting, perhaps Rose would pay attention again. Apparently, this had just disgusted her mildly before she returned to whatever seemed to be preoccupying her mind as of late.

Hugo was a smart boy, and he could feel that he was losing his sister.

A roar of frustration ripped from his throat and he buried one hand into his auburn curls and let the other flop over his face. Merlin only knew how long he laid there for, before a slightly heavy weight landed on his stomach, right over a fresh bruise.

Hugo winced and was just about to scream for the weight to, "Bugger off before I beat the bloody hell out of you!" but upon removing his hand, he realized it was a dark tawny owl. The owl, he knew, was a Ministry owl.

He pulled the letter from it's outstretched talon and slipped a few knuts into it's pouch, before watching it fly away.

The letter was light and seemed to contain hardly any parchment at all. He looked down for an address, curious as to why the owl had found him. On it's front it read:

**The Closest Member of the Weasley/Potter Family**

**The Burrow**

**The Outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole**

**Devon, England**

The script was hurried but precise and severe, and Hugo could have sworn it belonged to his Uncle Percy.

If the address itself hadn't been disconcerting enough, the message on the small bit of parchment within the envelope certainly was.

**Come quickly, all of you. It's Lucy. **

Before he could even understand what he was doing, Hugo was sprinting off towards the Burrow, the letter clutched tightly in his hand.

* * *

Rose watched the trees just beyond the St. Mungo's window rustle in a light August breeze, the early days of the month wrapped around her like a blanket. It felt too cold and clinical in the hospital, or perhaps that was just the distance between she and her best friends.

She let her eyes slip over to a corner only slightly obscured by a plastic chair where a sprig of black hair was leaned against the back of his best friend. Blonde, perfectly ruffled hair tried to hide his eyes, but Scorpius was staring right at her. She attempted to give him a gentle smile, but that was simply too much. His piercingly blue eyes watched her, before he patted the floor at his feet. She couldn't help herself.

Her feet naturally carried her over to his body, and she was collapsing at her feet within moments. She knows better than to let him love on her in front of her family, but here, in this vulnerable moment, she can't help it.

His arm sinks around her knee, putting his arm in an excellent position to be leaned on. She gives in, letting her head drift down onto his forearm as he begins to trace little abstract patterns over the bare expanse of skin under her kneecap.

Her body is overtaken by the slow liquid fire that always erupts under her skin when he touches her that way. Rose closes her eyes and blocks out every bit of worry and concern, only focusing on his calloused fingertips on her leg. She knows that their position is highly incriminating, but she doesn't have the energy to care.

Hugo, on the other hand, had plenty of energy and cared very much. From across the waiting room, Hugo spotted his sister, his best friend, leaning on Malfoy.

It's not that Malfoy's a particularly bad bloke. Sure, Hugo had his reservations about them being friends in the beginning, but so did everyone else. They fought constantly, Malfoy and his sister, and Hugo wasn't certain that was a very healthy friendship, but who was he to judge? Besides, Malfoy was his team mate, and the best Gryffindor Keeper since his dad. He was a funny and smart guy, practically family. Hugo didn't have a bit of a problem with Scorpius.

What he did have a problem with was what was before his eyes. He had never been particularly protective; that had always seemed to be James' expertise. But for a very long time, he had been one of the greatest priorities in his sister's life. She had held a plethora of concern for him, and while it had been obnoxious at the time, in it's absence Hugo had grown colder.

Hugo began to connect the pieces together. All of the times Rose had been missing for hours on end, all the times Scorpius had been missing for hours on end, her sudden lack of attention for Hugo, her frazzled attitude around Scorpius, her deficit in time to help Hugo study. All of it connected to make a horrible realization.

His sister, Rose Nymphadora Weasley, was dating Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

Not unlike his father, Hugo was slightly lacking in the tact department. As soon as he had made this realization, Hugo stood from where he had been sitting and shouted, "Rose! Are you bloody kidding me?"

Rose, taken by surprise at the sudden shout could merely muster, "Hugo! Watch your language!"

Another bolt of hot fury slithered through Hugo. "No, I will not watch my fucking language Rose! Why are you dating him? Tell me! I'm not stupid, Rosie!"

Rose's face drained to a horrible pallid color. She pushed herself up onto wobbly legs. Hugo's outburst had attracted the attention of their entire family. Hermione made a motion to stand and silence the oncoming argument, but Ron stood faster. "Wait Hermione. Dating who? Rose? What's going on?"

Rose's eyes were wide with horror. She looked over at Lily, begging for help. Lily merely stared at her, her mouth having fallen slightly open and she seemed to be gripping Lysander's hand so tightly it had to have been bone crushing. Rose couldn't bring herself to look down at Albus or, Merlin forbid, Scorpius.

Her hands shook at her side. She did her best to muster up every last ounce of Gryffindor courage in her bones. "I didn't want to do this this way. Not here, not when we're all so worried about Lucy. Please, Hugh, don't do this here."

He scoffed, his face alight with scarlet anger. "Don't give me that bollocks, Rosie. It's now or never. I want an explanation.

Ron put his foot down, bellowing, "Hugo, that's enough. Do not shout at your sister. Now Rose, please explain to us what's going on?"

For a brief, horrifying moment, it felt as though it were only Hugo and her. She didn't let her eyes leave his. She searched him for that moment, searched his eyes. Bruises she hadn't noticed now became apparent, bluer in her mind than she could remember them being. His face was contorted in nothing less than blistering animosity, but his deep, coffee brown eyes were blackened with unimaginable hurt. He deserved this explanation more than anyone else.

Rose took a steadying breath, before gazing down at Scorpius. His face, pink with mortification, stared up at hers. When their eyes met, she knew they had no choice. He stood slowly, and then put an arm around her shoulders. Their family made the realization before her mouth could even open in explanation. No one said a word.

"Hugo, I love him. I love Scorpius Malfoy. Daddy, I know you said not to get too friendly, but I… I suppose I did, didn't I? So there. There's the big secret, all of you. I'm dating Scorpius. So… Have at me, I guess."

Still, no one said anything. Ron, a terrible dejected look on his face, collapsed back into his chair, his mouth agape with the pain only a father who loves his daughter very much can feel. Hermione gripped her husband's hand gently and began to whisper encouraging words into his ear.

Hugo stared at her. He didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even change his facial expression. Just stared. Then, with the catlike reflexes of a beater, he jutted across the room, headed for Scorpius, his fist reared back.

Albus was standing then, his hands poised over Hugo's shoulders, taking the force of the collision and attempting to push his cousin back. "You don't want to do that, Hugh, I promise. Just cool down, mate."

But Hugo was much larger than Al, taller and bulkier in most ways. Without thinking, he jammed his elbow crushingly into Albus' nose, breaking it effortlessly. The sickening crunch of cartilage hung heavy in the room. Ginny jumped in surprise but Harry grabbed for her waist, stopping her from rushing to their son's side. Louis and Teddy sprinted to Hugo, gripping his shoulders and holding him back.

The action was unnecessary though. As soon as his elbow had connected, all of the color in Hugo's face drained away. His arms fell limp. He allowed himself to be restrained.

Albus cradled his nose, trying to stop the flowing blood that was now staining his shirt, groaning in pain. "Da bloody 'ell iz wong wiff you, mate?"

Hugo didn't have an answer. He hung his head in disgrace. His whole family had just seen him for what he really was: ruthless.

Scorpius knelt by his best friend's side as he helped him sit up against the wall, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and attempting to slow the blood flow as he signaled for a nurse to help. Rose had frozen, her eyes trained on her baby brother.

In that moment, she saw the strange, curly headed boy who she had caught trying to make himself stop crying in the bathroom on the day he was meant to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, terrified he wouldn't be a Gryffindor. Terrified he wouldn't make her proud. She remembered how, underneath all that muscle and brawn, he was a sensitive young man, a victim of his relentless emotions.

Hugo's shoulders were shaking now. He didn't dare look at his sister, or his mother. He knew they would give him that same, pitying look. He was stronger than that.

"Rose, I miss you." The words left his lips before he could stop them, but once they had been said, he suddenly felt lighter than air.

She balked at him, astounded by this admission. "Miss me? Hugo, I don't understand. What does this have to do with Scorpius? I've been here the whole time!"

Her brother chuckled darkly, an undercurrent of a sob touching his laughter. "Yeah, physically maybe. But you've forgotten all about me. Remember all those times you used to beg me to let you help me study for my OWLs? The way you would always fret over me after a match? The way you used to get on to me for not studying? I mean, it was bloody obnoxious, but at least you cared."

Tears spilled out of Rose's eyes. "Cared? I still care, Hugh! How could you think I don't?"

"Try the fact that I haven't really had a conversation with you in nine months, Rose! Think about it, this is the first time you've actually spoken to me since Halloween! I have to argue with you just to have a bit of your attention. I miss you. I miss you caring for me. I mean, your my best bloody friend!"

Rose closed her eyes. This couldn't be happening. This was a horrible, horrible nightmare. All of the things he was saying couldn't be true, could they? She hadn't been ignoring him, had she?

"I used to think it was my fault. That there was something I was doing wrong. I started fighting; did you even know that? I started fighting just so you would ask me what was wrong. So maybe you would tell me what I had been doing to make you want to distance yourself from me. To ignore me. But now I see what the problem is. You started dating Malfoy. You started caring more for him than me. I get it now. I'm not good enough to be a part of your life."

She couldn't keep the quaking out of her voice. "I-I don't know wh-what you're saying Hugo."

Furiously, he groaned, "I'm bloody jealous Rose! I need my best friend back!"

Silence fell once more as Hugo shook, his anger sliding through his veins. Rose cupped a hand over her lips, another arm sliding around her middle to give her a bit of support. She felt suddenly as though she couldn't breathe. Because, with a strike of horror, Rose realized he was right.

Shame and terror flooded the young girl as she watched her baby brother drop out of Louis and Teddy's hold. He fell to his knees, his shoulders retching with sobs.

He was so strong. Hugo Weasley was a true Gryffindor: brave and loyal and strong. But she had made him collapse. She had never realized how much he needed her. Rose did the only thing she knew how to do.

By some act of God, she was able to slowly make her way to her brother's side, before she too dropped. She pulled him up into her embrace like she had done when he was a child and let him sob into her body. He was much larger than her now, but somehow, as if by magic, he fit perfectly in his big sister's safe protection.

"I'm so sorry Hugo. This is all my fault. I should have told you about Scorpius and I. I just didn't know how. I swear, I'll make it up to you. I never meant to hurt you, Hugh, I promise. I love you. I love you so much, baby brother. I never thought it would cause you pain if I spent all my time with him. I didn't mean to ignore you or anyone else. I was just selfish, you know? Young love is always so selfish. Please, look at me okay?"

Hugo, with a great bit of effort on his part, lifted his head and met Rose's eyes. "I will always be your big sister, and I will always be here for you. You just have to tell me when I'm being a git sometimes. We can't both be as stubborn as Mum, you should know that by now!"

Despite himself, Hugo began to laugh. His laughter, a contagious, boisterous noise, caught fire in Rose's lungs. They couldn't help but be that way around one another.

But the warm, gentle moment came to a halt when Molly, who had spent her every waking moment by Lucy's side, shouted, "Lucy! No!"

Every eye in the waiting room turned to the doorway. They could see Molly's hair bobbing as she jumped from where she had been sitting, but that was all they could see of her.

Blocking the doorway stood Lucy, her machines lay unhooked around her body, her shoulder propped against the door frame. She smiled weakly.

"This is lovely, really. I'm so happy you finally talked to her Hugo." Her voice was weak. Her body was frail, thinner than any of her family had ever seen before.

A Healer who had been helping Al now stood, shock across his face. "Miss Weasley, you are in a fragile state. If you don't attach those machines this instant-"

But his advice was for naught. Lucy tumbled to the floor, her body hitting hard, her breathing wheezing and rough. Molly dropped beside her, grabbing her shoulders. "Lucy, love, stay with me okay? I'm going to get you back in your bed."

Lucy shook her head weakly, propping it against her sister's arm. "I'd rather you didn't. I don't like those things. They're horrible. I don't want to rely on them, even if that means dying."

Molly began to cry, horrible, ripping sounds. "No Lucy, don't you say that. Don't you say that Lucy!"

The placid, content little smile on Lucy's face stuck her sister harder than a knife in her heart. "I've done what I needed to do. If I had never been here, this never would have happened. I'm so proud of you Molly. I love you."

Her last words were whispered, drowned out by the beeping of the lone machine still attached to her body. She didn't speak again. Her family stared helplessly, her mother and father so numb and shocked, they could barely even breathe.

Molly begged her sister to live, to be stronger than death, not to give in. Her tears fell to the solemn and gradually slowing beat of the machine.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beeeeep…

Little, willowy Lucy Weasley's fragile heart had finally stopped.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I won't even pretend I'm not crying right now. What an emotional chapter. I'm just going to continue to cry. You have my love.


	14. The Revival

**Author's Note: **What, you thought I was done? Silly readers, there's so much more to be written! No, I simply had to take a cry break. As a matter of fact, I'm feeding so thoroughly on my own creative energy, I'm going to go ahead and upload another chapter!

Molly's mouth was dry and it hurt to even swallow, but she couldn't stop speaking. She had to speak. It was the only way Lucy could possibly wake up.

"No Lu, no no no. Don't you dare, dammit!" Her voice troubled, but she knew she was screaming. Her hands shook violently as they gripped Lucy's shoulders, still warm with blood and life. "You have to wake up now!"

If Molly had looked up, she would have watched her family tremble alongside her. Audrey was sobbing silently into Percy's neck as he ran shaking hands over his wife's back, tears streaking his severe face. Ron and Hermione clutched each other, not unlike the many times they had lost friends and family during the war. Ginny's hand had fallen over her mouth, and Harry was cradling her body near his. Everyone was leaning on someone else, trying to share the weight that was slowly settling in on their family. This couldn't be possible. Not to little Lucy.

Molly shook her sister's lifeless body. "Goddammit no! I will not let you give up on me!"

Lucy didn't respond. The smile never left her pale face. In Molly's opinion, her sister had never looked more beautiful in her life.

The tough exterior that Molly had built up over the years had begun to crumble. Her make up ran down the sides of her face, her hair disheveled. Blood rose up in her apple curved cheeks, the effort of her crying building up a furious pool of heat under her skin. Tears scared her marble skin, tracing pathways through a maze of freckles.

She couldn't give up. It wasn't in her nature.

The words began to flow from Molly's lips, rendering her suddenly incapable of stopping. "Do you remember what you said to me that night in the library, when I told you about Henry and I? When I told you we wanted to get married straight out of Hogwarts and that we were going to New Zealand and I told you how positively terrified I was, because I had absolutely lost control and you KNOW how much I hate losing control, Lu? And you cried, and I was so scared you wouldn't look up to me? You told me you had no idea how I hadn't ended up in Gryffindor, because I was the bravest woman you knew. Do you remember that? And we cried together, because what you said meant the world to me? I sure remember."

Her body retched, but no one made any moves to pull her away from her sister's body. No one could find it in themselves.

"And," she continued, her voice still staccato and her breathing sharp, "And you promised you'd always be there for me. You'd come to my rescue. You'd always be my sister and you'd stand beside me on my wedding day and it would be wonderful, do you remember? You promised. You've never broken a promise before so bloody hell Lucy, please don't start now!"

Henry Zabini, who had been standing in the shadows, knelt down beside his girlfriend, his arm around her tightly. "Lucy wouldn't want this Molly. She wouldn't want you remembering her this way."

She wanted to push him off, to have this last, sacred moment with her sister, alone. She couldn't let herself believe that Lucy was truly gone just yet. There was too much to say.

Shrugging out of his inviting embrace, Molly draped herself over her sisters body, grasping a fragile hand. She pulled her younger sister's, body up into her lap. Nimble fingers that had worked so well with potions and Charms work suddenly seemed clumsy and inadequate as she pushed a stray auburn hair off of her sister's forehead.

Molly tried to control her breathing. She went through every incantation she knew, having kept them stored away in some dark place in her mind, alphabetically organized. Their words in succession gave her the strength to slow her breathing. Then, she pulled the tiny body tightly against hers in a hug that she had grown so comforted in.

"Daddy's sorry, Lu. Mummy's sorry. Blimey, I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how much regret there is in my heart. You can't begin to imagine, Lu. I took you for granted all these, years, haven't I? Just took you for granted because you were always there for me. But we're all so sorry. I promise, if you just come back to me, to all of us, everything will be different. Remember all those wonderful things you said you wanted to do? All the changes you wanted to make to the law, how some day you wanted to be Minister. You can't do that if you don't wake up, Lucy. Please, please wake up."

And for a brief moment, everyone that surrounded Lucy and Molly, their eyes filled with horrid tears and terror, let themselves have the naive idea that maybe, just maybe Lucy would open her eyes and give them all that fond little smile. That maybe her body would hold that joy, that happiness for life that they had all simply been used to.

They had ignored her. She was so mild mannered and gentle that she had faded into the background when really, she might have been the best of them of all. She wasn't just some doormat to be walked all over.

No, Lucy Weasley had been the friend that they had all needed from time to time. She had stood up for the weak and weary. Sure, she had her flaws. She had been insecure and sickly and would rather give in to injustice that was done to her than stand up for herself, but she was one of the greatest Weasley's that had ever walked the Earth.

She simply couldn't be gone.

Desperate now, Molly quivered once more, this time in mourning. "I'm not willing to let you go, Lu. I love you. You said you're proud of me, but really, it's me whose so proud. You had the bravery to stand up to our father, to stand up and separate yourself from those machines… Merlin, I'm so proud of you. And I don't know how to survive without you, Lu. You're my best friend. You're the only person whose ever really known me. How do you expect me to just get over that? How can I be expected to just move on?"

No one answered. The finalization of the moment began to seep into young Molly Weasley's heart. She shivered darkly. The time to say goodbye had finally come.

She took a deep, trembling breath. "I love you so much Lucy. You're the greatest witch I've ever known. And I hate this, I bloody well hate this Lucy. And I hope you know that, wherever you are. And… If I could take all of this back, give my life for yours, I would. I would die for you. It would have been an honor. But you just need to understand how proud I am to have called you my sister. And I don't even know how I'm supposed to breathe without you there, because you've always been there, but I have to, for you. So… I love you Lu."

Tears spilling from her eyes, Molly bent and kissed her sister's forehead with all the tenderness in the world.

And then, a most curious thing happened. From the place where Molly's lips had grazed her sister's now cooling flesh, a tiny green light now emerged. It sparkled there for a moment, before enveloping both Lucy and Molly. Percy stood hurriedly, running to try to protect Molly from what he assumed was dark magic, but the green light that enveloped his daughters had formed a forcefield which he could not broach. Percy was thrown back a few feet, landing harshly on his back.

The Weasley family hissed harsh breaths of horror and shock, entirely taken unaware of this new turn of events. Only Harry Potter, who was suddenly very aware of the situation and the scar on his head, could begin to understand what was happening.

And then, the light was gone, leaving nothing more than an effervescent haze in its wake, sucking in every occupant in the room.

Molly, whose tears still shined on her freckled face, stared down in disbelief at her younger sister. She felt a hand on her shoulder and saw black, messy hair as her Uncle Harry settled beside her. "Molly, don't let her go."

She held on tighter, trying to strangle the smallest bit of hope in her throat. It couldn't be possible.

But of course, anything is possible when the oldest magic in the world is involved.

Molly's deep, ocean blue eyes stayed trained on her sister's face, and suddenly, were met by a pair of eyes not so different from her own.

Her sister's.

"Oh, Molly. I'm positive I'm dead. I have to be. So why are you here? Honestly, if you killed yourself to be with me, I'm going to be very upset with you."

Molly couldn't help but shutter a stunned, awestruck laugh at the sound of her sister's croaking, gravely voice. It was by far the greatest noise she had ever heard in her life.

"You're alive! Lucy! Lucy, you're… Bloody hell you're alive!" She was so wrapped up in the emotion, in the hope of the moment that she didn't even let herself doubt Lucy's revival. She buried her face in her sister's hair and began to cry.

Lucy, on the other hand, who had missed the last few moment's events, was incredibly confused. "No, no. I'm definitely dead."

Harry shook his head slowly, leaning back against the wall and running his hands through his hair. "Lucy, there's a very ancient type of magic at work here, a type I don't even completely understand. Love has a very powerful affect. See this scar here?" Harry tapped his forehead with his forefinger. "The only reason I have this scar, the only reason I'm alive, is because my own mother died for me. That's a very powerful bit of magic, you see. The willingness to die for another person… It's incredibly strong. You must have had just enough life left in you for the magic to work..."

Letting his voice slowly die away, Harry closed his eyes, disbelieving in what he had just witnessed.

Lucy slowly turned her gaze to her sister. "You… You'd die for me? Is that why I'm still here?"

Molly, with hard, hot tear tears falling faster now nearly choked on her own sardonic laughter. "Are you mad? I'd do anything for you, Lu. You're my sister."

Lucy began to shake herself, and the two sisters cried together. They cried for every fear they had ever felt, for the pain of a horrible death, for the pain of losing your best friend, for the love of one another.

No one spoke for a very long time. How could they, after what they had just seen? Finally, Hugo rested his forehead against Rose's shoulder, muttering, "Bloody Hell, this family…"

Percy, who had now managed to sit up, reached a hand out to his daughters. "Lucy…"

The word left his chapped lips like coals being raked over a fire. Both of his teary eyed children looked up at him, and before they could even comprehend the moment, his long, freckled arms were wrapping them up, holding both of them close to his breast.

Every father in the room ached with their brother. Percy's sobs were the most heart wrenching thing to hear. He pressed his face into his daughter's dark red hair. "I… I thought I'd lost you Lucy. Darling I'm so sorry. I've been so stupid."

Lucy laughed through her tears, wrapping her arms around her father's neck. "Yes father, you have."

Audrey now was with them too, her arms around her tiny family, keeping them close to her, not willing to let them go. Molly relished in the warmth of her family, her sister's beating heart near her ear.

Percy pulled away from his wife and eldest daughter, placing both hands on either side of Lucy's face. Lucy stared at her father, his face littered with wrinkles and a scar or two from the war. "Can you forgive me, Lucy? Give me the chance to be the father I should have been?"

As his thumbs brushed the soft tears off her cheeks, Lucy couldn't help but whisper, "I'll always forgive you, Daddy."

His smile lit up his face in a way his family hadn't seen in years. He hugged his daughter once more, suffocatingly tight, and kissed her forehead where the light that had saved her life had been moments ago.

When he pulled away, he turned his face to the spot where Henry was now pulling Molly and her mother off the floor, before wrapping his burly, ebony arms around Molly's frame. Percy watched his daughter bury her face in the man's chest, shaking with joy as he bent down to whisper something encouraging to her. It was evident he loved her. He had been there for her even when she had pushed him away. Percy realized what a fool he would have been to deny his daughter that happiness.

"Henry, Molly?" Molly drew her face away from Henry's body, her arms tightening around him out of habit, afraid her father would banish the boy. Instead, he gave them a withered smile, and announced, "You both have my blessing. Welcome to the family, son."

Molly's face cracked into a joyful grin, her teeth shining in the light, before she launched herself at her father, giggling like a first year. "Oh Daddy! Thank you thank you thank you!"

And with both of his daughters grinning, arms around him, his wife's loving eyes on him and his family's soft, relieved laughter in the background, Percy felt as if all would be alright after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Oh c'mon! I couldn't really kill her off! While I'm perfectly comfortable killing my own characters, I can't do it to someone else's without their permission! So, Lucy lives! You know what they say, you don't know what you have till it's gone. Everyone needed to lose Lucy to see her worth, even us. Alas, I hope your happy tears are as light as mine. As always, you have my love.


	15. The Reckoning

**Author's Note: **Let's enjoy a little bit of peace, shall we?

In the days that followed the traumatic and very well publicized revival of Lucy Weasley, everything seemed to be… Usual. Back to normal. Better than normal, really, in Albus' opinion.

From his very comfy seat on the dock that extended over one of the many lakes on the Weasley's property, Albus' could see the whole world as far as he was concerned. He watched with a secretive, sensitive little smile on his face as Lily splashed Lysander, her hands on his chest, pushing him away as he went to pick her up, their laughter intertwined so magically it was hard to imagine them sounding any other way. Near them, Freddie had hoisted Rebecca onto his shoulders and was challenging Dominique and Lorcan to a game of chicken. James was swinging wildly from the tire swing that hung over the lake, threatening to crash onto all the couples and banging on his chest like a monkey man. Much to his chagrin, however, Hugo, Roxanne and the usually rule-abiding Lucy had severed the rope that held the tire up, sending James plummeting suddenly into the water. Rose and Scorpius clapped from where they swam, screaming out ratings for his surprise dive, earning them a cheeky grin from Hugo. On the shore, Molly lounged against Henry's chest making mild conversation with Victoire about her wedding as Henry, Teddy and Louis spoke in jovial tones about their futures.

Albus couldn't help but grin and tip his head back, letting the sun shine on his skin. It felt like heaven having his whole family there together, all of them laughing and smiling. He didn't have to worry about anyone's safety or wipe up anyone's tears. He was content to lose himself in the shimmering heat of the summer, the warmth of his family and the thought of Alice Longbottom in a swimsuit.

In a sudden disruption of his thoughts, two hands wrapped around his ankles, and Albus swiftly collided with the surface of the water. When he shook of his surprise and surfaced, he saw two very devious looking faces grinning mischievously at him. Scorpius' arm rested around Rose's bare shoulder, and he bellowed, "Stop thinking about Longbottom, mate. If you want something bad enough, you have to go and get it!"

At this declaration, he leaned over and kissed Rose's jaw gently, causing her to erupt with giggles to the chorus of a disgusted groans and shouts, all in good nature. With

With his father's grin on his face, Albus jumped for his best friend's shoulders and pushed him deeply under the water before swimming off as fast as he could, laughter echoing in the valley of the Burrow.

* * *

The same joyous atmosphere could not be said for inside the house where all of their parents sat around, stiff drinks in their hands and sighs in their voices.

"I simply don't understand," Ron's voice was husky and rough, colored by firewhiskey and discontent. "What's gotten into all of them lately?"

Ginny propped her feet onto Harry's lap, her back leaned against George's shoulder like she had done when she was younger. When there were no children around to question their parents' maturity, it was a lot easier for them all to relax a little. "They all do seem to be having a rather tumultuous summer."

Luna patted Rolf's hand as he breathed, "I've never seen either of my sons so troubled in his my life than they were this summer. I mean, it's all better now that they've got Lily and Dominique, but you understand me."

Bill's head was resting in his wife's lap, her hands tracing the familiar, vulgar scars over his cheek bones. "It's been a very hard summer for all of them. After all, I don't think I've ever seen Dominique speak like that to her siblings. She loves them too much."

Fleur shook her head softly, murmuring, "Eet ez true. Could it be ze wedding?"

Molly, who stood in the doorway leaning against her husband murmured, "Fleur dear, I'm certain it has nothing to do with Teddy and Victoire. They're just being happy."

Hermione let out a shuttering breath, resting her head against Ron's shoulder, "I've seen my daughter and son fight vigorously-I mean, look at their parents!-but never like the other night. Audrey, I'm so sorry about that, by the way."

Shaking her head, Audrey merely replied, "It was going to happen anyway. It certainly got Lucy out of her bed, and well…"

No one had really spoken of the miracle they had all witnessed. There was nothing left to say.

Silence crept in on the family, filling in the crevices of their scars. Even after so much time, it seemed so strange to be there. They still felt young in so many ways, as though in a week's time they would be readying themselves for Bill and Fleur's wedding, not Teddy and Victoire's.

It was Charlie's voice that finally broke the tension. "It's just as well, isn't it? All of this?"

Arthur's brow furrowed deeply. "What do you mean son?"

His chuckle was light. Being the only Weasley without a child did have it's advantages, after all. He had the pleasure of having a gaggle of children who practically worshipped him, and whom he got the pleasure of caring for without having to deal with the average stresses of parenthood. It made seeing the workings of his family much simpler.

"The world we were born into was so much stranger than this one. We fought a war, for Godric's sake. We were so busy shooting spells and saving our own skins that we hardly got the chance to be young adults. Even Bill or Fleur and I, we were still young when the war started for a second time. Our parents fought, we fought. Our kids are the first one's to live in a time of peace."

Harry closed his eyes, trying to remember what it felt in those fleeting moments when he had truly felt like a normal teenager. Running away from his first and only disastrous date with Cho. Feeling so much jealousy every time he saw the way Dean had touched Ginny. Holding Ginny in his arms and whispering how he loved her for the first time. Clearly these sorts of thoughts were running through his wife's mind as well, for when he opened his eyes, she gave him a tender smile and leaned over to kiss his jaw.

Charlie continued as he climbed onto the arm of his favorite plush chair, "In those brief bits where everything did feel normal, nothing could ever compare to the war or the fear. For the kids, they've been born into this big gaping hole where a war used to be. They're the one's fixing this world, not us. We saved it; they have to put it back together. What that means is they have to rewrite the way it feels to be teenagers."

Bill stared agape at his younger brother, the one he was closest to, before beginning to laugh. "Blimey, Charlie, who knew you were so philosophical?"

His smile was soft and his ran his fingers through his spiked ginger hair. "To be honest, I didn't know myself mate! But… But we have to remember that no matter what, they ARE our children. It takes a village to raise the lot of them. Or, in our case, a Burrow. We've got to be understanding. Flexible. Isn't that right Perce?"

Percy smiled softly, muttering, "Flexibility was never my strong suit, but… If it makes Molly happy to be wed so early, well that's what I have to allow. If they're all happy, we have to allow them to be so."

Only Ron seemed disturbed now. His head in his hands, he groaned in a strangled sort of tone, "But it's ROSE! Rose and the Malfoy boy. And don't get me wrong, Harry, he seems like a fine bloke for them to be friends with, but she can't be in love with him. She can't be in love this early."

Hermione smiled warmly, grabbing her husband's hand and pulling him from his seat. "Come on Ronald. Let's go for a walk."

As the husband and wife split from the rest of the group, other couples split as well. It seemed that, despite the simplicity of Charlie's word, it would take the love of a spouse and that familiar encouragement to make the words sink in.

When Charlie sat alone with his parents, he smirked at them, raising his bottle in the air. "Aren't you proud you have at least one sensible son?"

* * *

Bill and Fleur sat in the back yard, cuddled together under the archway that they were married under once upon a time. It seemed like just yesterday, Bill had watched the beautiful young woman float down the aisle, her hair done up elaborately, tiny blue flowers braided into blonde. He remembered raising his wand, watching her do the same, and making vows that would never be broken. It had been the best day of his life.

In less than a week, he would be expected to watch his eldest daughter do the same. Tears welled up under his eyes and he felt Fleur tighten her hold on his hand, crooning soft words in french against his hair.

"How has the time gone by so fast, love?" His voice was gravely as he pulled his wife strongly against his chest. "How could our little girl be getting married? It feels like just yesterday I could hold her in one hand."

Fleur gave her husband a misty smile. It thrilled her to know that Bill loved their children so thoroughly. "Bill, eet ez de natu-air of time. All things must change, of dis zhou are aware."

She reached over, brushing the fringe of his never dulling hair from his eyes, forcing him to look at her. His eyes sparkled in a way that had enchanted her when she was merely seventeen, and had never stopped since. "Teddy can make _notre fille _happy. Theez ez obvious."

Bill nodded, having become accustomed to Fleurs intermingling of French and English. He closed his eyes and leaned into his wife, breathing her in. "She deserves the best, our angel does."

His wife whispered gingerly in his ear, "Zhou know, she told me he trea's her like a prinzess. That he remindz her of zhou."

Bill smiled at this, whispering, "Just so long as she remembers I loved her first."

For a moment, they quietly just enjoyed one another's presence, before he spoke again. "You know, darling, I think we might have done alright. Three beautiful children, all so very different. All so very perfect. Beautiful Victoire, charming Louis and strong-willed Dominique. How did we get so very lucky?"

Laughing in that tinkling, delectable way that Bill so fancied, she replied, "_Maintenant que c'est une chose au-delà de la magie."_

* * *

Percy stood by the window of his old bedroom, his arm wrapped tightly around his wife's shoulders. "Everything is about to change, isn't it Percy?"

Audrey's voice did not shake with fear, but rather sobered with anticipation. Who knew where Molly would be in a few months? Who knew if Lucy was really healed from her horrible incident? The indecision was not something that Percy or Audrey were comfortable with.

He squeezed her shoulder tightly. "Yes dear, I'm afraid it will."

She nodded her head slowly, apprehensively. "And do you think he really loves her? Henry, I mean?"

Percy's eyes searched the skyline that he had spent so much time watching as a younger man. It was the same skyline he had sold out for money and power so many years ago, willing to betray his family for the Ministry. He was by no stretch of the imagination a perfect man.

But Percy, Godric bless him, was a smart man. He knew what love looked like. He remembered being cast unawares by the beauty of the woman he had met oh so long ago across a desk top as she, his fellow secretary at the time, had plopped a new load of paperwork onto his desk. He could still remember the words that had accompanied her pitying eyes:

_It gets easier, I swear, if only you'll let me help you. _

From that moment on, he had never wanted to do anything without her by his side. He had always thought the love at first sight nonsense was, well, just that. Nonsense. But when he saw her, he knew.

And Percy saw that same, frenzied look of fear and bliss in Henry Zabini's eyes every time they landed on his daughter. "There's no doubt in my mind."

For a long time, neither of them said anything, until finally Audrey murmured, "Well, at least we'll have handsome grandchildren."

Percy couldn't restrain his laughter as he bent to kiss his wife's forehead. "We better. But the little buggers cannot have a New Zealand accent. I simply won't allow that."

Audrey gave him her mild-mannered smile, before replying, "Though, Mr. Head Inquisitor, it seems you may have your successor after all in our other daughter." Percy's grin quadrupled in size.

"Yes, Lucy will make us proud."

As if to punctuate this statement, he added, "They both already have."

Audrey laid her dark haired head against his chest, before whispering quietly, "You're a good father, Percy Weasley. Not perfect, but you are a good father."

His stoic features broke with something akin to paternal pain. "I'm not certain of that, dear."

She reached up, laying her light finger on his jaw, whispering, "I am. That is, after all, why I married you."

* * *

Angelina had many things about George that she loved. There were few people that could truly tell he and Fred apart when they were younger, but she had always been one of those few. For one, George's hair was always softer. George denied any use of product, denouncing it with a noisy, "None of that feminine bollocks for me, thanks!" but upon their marriage, Angelina found a very large bottle of detangler and conditioner.

Perhaps that was why she so thoroughly enjoyed running her fingers through it, even to this day.

"I'm very proud of our children, you know." Her voice was light, airy. She couldn't see a reason not to be proud of them. She had two noble, brave Gryffindors, just like their parents. Just like Fred.

George nodded, his eyes closed in indulgence. "I couldn't be prouder of the little bastards."

Angelina giggled, pressing her lips lightly to his temple. "Your son is very talented, you know. Has he discussed his future with you yet?"

A smile graced his features. "I always knew all that poetry he used to write meant something. I owe you five galleons by the way. It seems he is certainly not gay."

She giggled something about him being a terrible father for betting against his son that way. When their laughter settled back to silence, she wondered aloud, "Do you think he and Becca will marry? He seems very fond of her."

George opened his eyes, staring up at the woman who held his head in her hands. He still felt like a younger man every time she held him like this. Here in this secret room, a room not even his parents knew existed, he felt like a younger man. It had been a room of he and his twin's creation, a special shop, the original WWW. Only Angelina had ever seen this place. It was here that he had proposed.

"I hope he does. She's the only woman patient enough to take care of him, poor lad." George nuzzled his head back into her stomach, making her smile down at him affectionately. "However, perhaps we can keep Roxy away from any serious relationships for a while. Poor Ickle-Ronnikins seems to have lost his shit over this new development."

His wife giggled exuberantly, stroking his hair once more. "Your daughter will settle for nothing but the best, you should know that by now."

He did know this, and it was this thought that brought a toothy grin to his lips. He was very proud indeed.

* * *

George couldn't have been more correct. Ron had quite frankly lost his mind. Hermione sat silently in the grass, a playful smirk fighting to overcome her features. She bit her lip in that adorably bookish way that Ron had fallen in love with so long ago.

"Oi! Stop looking at me like that, will ya? I'm trying to have a go!" Ron sound exacerbated, exhausted and quite frankly, frantic.

"I really don't see why you're so perturbed by all of this Ronald." Hermione smiled her sweet, gentle smile, patting the ground beside her lightly. "Sit down, please?"

He dropped down beside his wife, his head down in the grass, grumbling in distressed tones. Hermione leaned over him, letting her fingers play fondly over his stomach. She could still feel the hardened Auror muscles underneath the cotton of his T-shirt.

"She's just so young, 'Mione. She's our girl, and she's so young! It couldn't really be love, could it?"

Laughing quietly, Hermione replied gently, "Dear, have you forgotten how old we were when WE fell in love?" His blanched face replied that he had, and that the sudden memory gave him one less contention against Scorpius Malfoy.

"Are you still harboring prejudices against his father, Ron?"

Ron thought about that for a long moment. Draco Malfoy HAD been a right prat when they were younger, but in the fleeting moments they had passed at the ministry, he had seemed… Well, civil. Lucius Malfoy had really been the puppeteer, and Draco merely his victim. "No, not really. Scorpius seems much more different than I ever could have thought, I guess. He's an alright bloke."

"And he very clearly cares for our Rosie. Albus seems to approve. He IS a Gryffindor. And after all, didn't he say at dinner the other night how he was a Cannons fan? That will be very hard to find in any other man at Hogwarts or otherwise." Hermione smiled lightly as she laid down beside her husband like she had the summer before the Horcrux hunt and the horrors it would ensue.

"Yeah, I s'pose. And maybe he can help watch out for Hugo, with Rose. They both seem bright, don't they? Rose and Scorpius? Merlin knows Hugo takes after me; without a push there's not a flying hope in Hell of him studying for those OWL's." He chuckled as his wife wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"So," Ron pushed a hair behind his wife's ear, "We approve of Scorpius Malfoy, then?" Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Bloody Hell," her husband hissed, "Lucky bit of work that you don't still have that bloody time turner, or I can think of a really excellent way to scare the pants off twelve year old us."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, thinking of a slug infested Ron and a love struck version of herself. "Really, we should have seen this coming. They ARE our children, after all."

Ron smiled down at his wife, kissing her lightly, "And they're positively perfect."

* * *

Harry and Ginny had stole away to the roof, as they so often had in the months after the war. You could only reach the roof from Ginny's balcony, a ladder that she had created herself leaned in concealment against the exterior wall, guiding them up to one of the only stable parts in the roof.

Together, they laid back, hands intertwined. They said nothing. For once, neither of them really felt like speaking at all.

Harry turned his head ever so slightly, his glasses sliding down his nose as he met his wife's gaze. He felt a great purring from the monster in his chest, and couldn't help but smile. He remembered every moment with her. They had been his solace in a time when he had none. She had been his hiding place. She had been his place of reckoning.

Ginny's eyes were bright and alive, and her smile was wide and inviting, contagious. She leaned over slowly, her lips brushing Harry's ear in that way that made him shudder with pleasure, even after all this time. "I love you, Harry Potter."

This was no news to Harry. She had loved him since she was ten, and he couldn't imagine a life where Ginny didn't love him.

Rolling onto his side so that he could rest a hand on her face, he pressed his nose lightly against hers, before leaning in to capture her lips. When they broke apart, he whispered, "And I will always love you, Ginny Potter."

She watched him for a long moment, before breathing, "I'm so glad you came out of that forrest. I'm so very glad you're alive."

He smiled at her, nodding his head in agreement.

"I couldn't ask for a better husband, you know," she continued, her breathing heavy, her voice warm. "Without you, my life would be so empty. No loving, courageous husband to keep me warm at night, three less children, beautiful, wonderful children, and Teddy. No Teddy. How could I possibly have existed further if you hadn't come out?"

He shook his head, trying not to think of the pain he would have caused her. "We do have beautiful children, don't we? Teddy included."

Ginny giggled. "Oh yes, beautiful. Teddy and that Tonks-like personality, James and his tricky self, Albus and his nobility, and then your perfect, entirely hard-headed daughter."

Harry chuckled breezily, murmuring, "What can I say? She's just like her mother."

They shared a long, comforting moment. "This may have been a hard summer, but I'm so glad it happened. For Teddy, for Lily and Lysander, for Al and James… They needed this."

Harry nodded in reply, remembering all the hard summers he had had as a teenager. "After all, it could be worse."

Ginny giggled quietly, teasingly whispering, "Nothing could be worse than Robert Finnegan."

Harry's face was instantly beat red, and his heart beat an angry, paternal pattern as his wife burst into loud laughter, tickling a smile back onto his face.

As the sun set on the family, the children enjoying their youth and the adults enjoying their age, it seemed for a moment that maybe, just maybe, all things really did work out for the better.

* * *

**Author's Note: **No matter how much I love the next generation, I can't stop loving Harry's generation either. Ugh, I'm so cannon:) I just wanted to show the connection between the past, the present, and the future. There's more to come, I promise. You all have my love.


	16. The Proposal

**Author's Note: **I believe Lily owes Teddy an explanation, and Henry owes Molly… Well, you'll see. This chapter will be dedicated to acciohome for paying me the greatest complement anyone has ever given me. So, enjoy!

The night before Victoire and Teddy's wedding was filled with tension of the greatest joy. The family huddled together in the sitting room, eating Chocolate frogs and playing Exploding Snaps. Subconsciously, most of the younger generation were simply trying to preserve the innocence of Teddy and Victoire, keeping them close in that moment.

But all of their innocence was about to be put on hold for one more moment.

Henry sat beside Lucy, whispering something frantic, trying to maintain his Slytherin cool. "Are you certain about this? It seems like the wrong time, Lu."

Lucy giggled quietly, brushing her bangs out of the way of her glasses. "It's never the wrong time, Henry."

Nervously, Henry twirled his thumbs in circles around one another, repetitively clearing your throat. Lucy continued to give him very curious, very amused looks. "Alright, Zabini, if you don't relax, your intentions here are going to be incredibly obvious."

"You don't understand!" He nearly explained, only slapping his hand over his mouth at the last moment in an attempt to silence his exclamation. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then continued quickly, "This is THEIR night. Lupin's an Auror; that's not exactly a force I want to be reckoning with. If I ruin this for them, Molly will never forgive me! And our flat in Wellington is small; that's not a lot of space to deal with an angry Molly Weasley!"

Lucy gave him a devious smirk, one that was seen so rarely and by so few people that it seemed incredibly unusual. However, to Molly, it was the key beacon as to why her younger sister was almost the first Slytherin in the family, rather than the first Hufflepuff. "I happened to have thought that out. How dare you doubt me, Zabini? I'm offended. Listen, I talked to Ted. He's expecting it. I wouldn't have suggested you do it tonight if I hadn't thought it all the way through!"

Henry gave her a flashy grin, his perfectly curved lips peeling into a dazzling smile. It was no surprise how Molly fell in love with him. "You're absolutely brilliant Lucy! Thanks so much!"

Henry leaned forward and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, his flattery causing her to blush vividly as she grinned back at him, waving her hand to urge him forward.

His confidence soared upward, only to plummet downward as soon as he oh so cockily cleared his throat and stood. There was something about the collective Weasley-Potter gaze that was utterly terrifying. The only smiling face was Teddy's; everyone else, Molly included, simply stared in mild interest.

"I have something I'd like to say if, uh, if that's alright." Henry instantly wished he had accepted that second butterbeer from Harry.

Teddy's grin grew wider when nobody responded, so he took the liberty. "Well please, Henry. Continue." With a great flourish of his wand hand, Teddy opened the floor for Henry's speech.

For the umpteenth time, Henry cleared his throat. _How the hell am I even supposed to start this bloody thing? _

Thinking back to his childhood with his younger sisters, Henry tried to think of every romantic idea that had been spilled into his mind. He had had a plan; he'd had the words all mapped out. But looking at her then, in that moment, was nothing he expected.

Molly had never been particularly beautiful, at least not in that conventional way that other girls were seen as pretty. But Henry Zabini was a true Slytherin, not because he was cruel or unfeeling, but because he was cunning and ambitious. The sparkle, the hunger in Molly's eyes when she worked at her studies, the thrill of being around her, the pure sparkle of her determination was intoxicating. It had been her personality that had caught his eye three years ago, and he had quickly become friends with her. Friends that, when frustrated, took out their frustrations on each other. In broom closets.

One day, however, in the beginning of their seventh year, Molly had stepped into the Slytherin common room, her jaw set and her eyes sizzling.

"_Zabini." His name had been a hiss in the common room, something so sinister even the Slytherin's flenched. "We need to talk." _

_Henry, mouth agape, homework spilled messily around him, two quills tucked behind each ear, stared back in awestruck wonder. She was the most beautiful thing in the world. When had she grown up? When had she lost the adorable, the Weasley-esque appearance she shared with all of her younger cousins? The woman before him was gorgeous. _

"_How in Merlin's book did you get in here, Mols?" Molly had rolled her eyes at his question. _

"_I'm a Ravenclaw, dumbarse. Most importantly, I'm Molly Weasley. I can figure out a simple password. Now, are we going to talk or are you just gonna sit there and stare?" _

_He didn't answer. _

_Molly, evidently following her usual short fuse, groaned in frustration before crossing the common room, grabbing Henry's collar and attaching her lips to his. _

"_I don't want to just be your friend with benefits," she breathed when they parted, his hands automatically sliding to her hips as he stood in front of her. "I don't want to be just some girl. I want to be your girl. Somehow I fell in love with you and, well, I get what I want or die trying. I want you." _

_Henry had grinned down her, not caring who was watching, before whispering, "You're lucky I want to keep you alive." _

Just as she had in that moment, she looked stunning here. She had cut her scarlet hair back into a pixie cut when Lucy had relapsed, not wanting to bother with anything but her sister. It suited her sharp jaw and thin features, giving her a mysteriously powerful look. Her deep blue, almost indigo eyes stared at him as though searching his soul. Her nose, still unbearably adorable, wrinkled in confusion as he stared at her. She was truly breath taking.

A small smile had melted on his face, and suddenly, the words just began to flow. He just knew what he was supposed to do, and was only vaguely aware he was doing anything at all. Before he knew it, he was walking in what appeared to him to be slow motion, his hand outstretched to Molly.

She took it, of course, befuddlement pouring over her features. He pulled her to her feet, and began to speak.

"A little under a year ago, you burst into my common room. It didn't matter that you were surrounded by people you had never spoken to in your life. You brought no back up. I don't think you even brought your wand. You were fearless. You had these perfect little flames billowing in your eyes and you looked so determined you would destroy anything in your path. I was intoxicated. You gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. You offered me your heart. You took our friendship to a relationship, do you remember that?"

Molly grinned brightly at him, nodding. While she couldn't see where this was going, she certainly had no problem with reliving that memory.

Taking a deep breath, Henry slowly brought himself down onto one knee. Molly's eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly, her throat constricting and her body quivering slightly. He couldn't help but smile even more.

"Well, I guess it's my turn to make the next move, isn't it? So here I am, in your living room. I'm surrounded by people who, if I hurt you, will quite literally slaughter me. I have no back up. I do have my wand," he pulled it out, whispering an enchantment, forcing a long, golden stream of liquidy magic from it's tip, "but that's for different purposes. I'm terrified you're going to shoot me down, and I can barely breathe I'm so nervous, but I'm here, on one knee, and I'm determined. I don't want to just be some boy. I want to be your man. Your husband, more specifically. So. Please, Molly Ann Weasley, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"

As he had spoke, the golden liquid had formed a perfect circle, hardening into a sold gold ring. In the center of the ring's mount was a modest diamond, sparkling with magic, surrounded by smaller sapphires and emeralds. On the inside of the ring was inscribed, _Get what you want or die trying._

Molly stared at him, tears dribbling down her cheeks. She had never cried so much in her life as she had that fateful summer. She could no longer hear her family. She could see nothing but his face, his gorgeous face, and the ring floating inches from her finger tips. Time slowed as she felt her heart swell with love and joy and terror. She could already feel her cheeks straining as the biggest grin she had ever shown peeled over her face.

Reaching her hand out to him, she pulled him from the ground, the ring floating ever closer to her fingers as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. In a single, soft, sweet breath, she whispered, "You're lucky I want to keep you alive. Of course I'll marry you Henry."

The ring pushed itself onto her finger, sparkling beautifully as he broke into a joyful whoop of excitement, sweeping his fiancé from the ground, kissing her through her tears and his laughter.

It was one of the happiest moments of Molly's life.

Her family's squeals of happiness and congratulations burst into her eardrums suddenly as it all came back into focus. When Molly's feet finally touched the ground again, she had people throwing themselves at her one after the other, laughing and kissing her cheeks, telling her how proud they were.

Lucy, who had been standing silently against the wall with a weepy smile on her face, could no longer help herself. She flew into her sister's arms, sobbing tears of joy. Molly merely wiped the tears away, kissing her sister's forehead and whispered simply, "Thank you for being here."

They were the most perfect words Lucy had ever heard.

* * *

The joy and toasts continued late into the night. Victoire couldn't find it in herself to leave the family she so loved in such a time of joy, no matter how important the next day would be.

As she leaned against Lysander, Lily couldn't help the budding grin over her face. Everyone was so happy in that one moment. And when her eyes fell on Teddy, that strapping, charming smirk on his face, she felt her heart lift. In Lysander's arms, however, it didn't lift out of unrequited love, but a sister's joy.

"Lily?" Lysander's voice was a coo in her ear, her hair ruffling with his breath.

Lily laid her head back onto Lysander's shoulder, her eyes lidded and smiling. "Yes, Ly?"

He stared at her for a long, long moment, before slowly turning her shoulders to face him. Sensing the seriousness of that moment, Lily stared up at him with undivided attention. "I have something to say."

Lily's heart began to race. As a Gryffindor, she was always paranoid, prepared for the worst. Especially when it came to him.

"I love you." The words left his lips. They were smooth, drowning in that oh so Lysander voice of his. He couldn't stop smiling. He had been waiting years to say those words. Despite the summer they had spent in each other's arms, neither of them had uttered the words, terrified of the other's response. But he knew it was time.

Lily's heart blossomed like a flower in her chest and she beamed at him. "I love you more, Ly." Their lips met softly, innocently, his hand cupping her jaw and hers pulling him closer.

When they finally broke apart, heads resting together, he whispered the most trusting words Lily had ever heard, "You haven't spoken to Ted in two months. It's time, Lil. I want you to."

She stared up at him with hazel eyes, filled with love and hope for a future in his arms. "Are you certain you're alright with that?"

He gave her a genuine, warm smile, replying, "You love me. And I believe you. Go talk to him; get your brother back."

She kissed his chin gently, whispering in the voice she reserved only for him in those perfect moments, "You're truly the best."

Teddy couldn't help but be a little shocked when Lily walked over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. It had been a secret code between them when they were children. From the time she could walk, she was tapping him on the shoulder, pleading for the opportunity to play with him. This gesture had evolved with time and their age. It had gone from an invitation for play time to a request for a serious conversation, the kind she had only with him.

After not speaking to him in weeks, Lily had come over and passed him this secret message, before sneaking away from her family and out the front door. Concern building for the young girl, Teddy whispered something chaste into Victoire's ear about speaking with Lily, kissing her cheek, and followed the flowing scarlet hair out of the house.

Lily climbed into her favorite tree, a magical thing that had the most gnarled branches and knobby bark of any tree she had ever seen. It was the easiest to climb in all of the Burrow. It had been their meeting place for all of her fifteen years.

"Alright, Lily, what's all this about?" Teddy sat on the limb below her, as was customary.

"A lot of things, Teddy." Her eyes were soft. She looked so much older than she had at the beginning of the summer, and she knew that. From where Teddy sat, he watched the moon give her a wise glow, an age he never could have imagined. It occurred to him then that something had changed in her this summer. She wasn't the little girl he had helped raise anymore.

"Such as? You haven't spoken to me in months. You're angry with me, yeah? Is this about Victoire? Or the fact that I kicked that Finnegan kid's ass?" Teddy's voice was gruff. He was angry with her too. Teddy loved Lily; she was his little girl. It didn't matter how old she got, how old he got, she would always be the little girl who would climb onto his back and shout random colors, clocking the time of his transitions. She would always be the girl he would sing to sleep. She would always be his Little Lily, a girl he cared about like younger sister.

Lily winced at the harshness of his tone. "Teddy I… Waited, what did you do to Robbie?"

Teddy growled, a beast-like noise that made Lily laugh. "No one touches you like that. At least, not without your permission. He looked at you like a piece of meat."

Lily rolled her eyes, muttering, "He was a mistake. I fixed it."

His eyes morphed into a soft, jade green. They were inviting. "So Lysander… He treats you right?"

A distant, ridiculously happy little smile peaked onto her lips, and she murmured in a tone no louder than a sigh, "He's incredible, Ted. Insane, incredibly challenging and he drives me absolutely barmy. But I've never been treated better. I love him."

His hair turned a very, very light shade of lavender, mere moments from pink out of embarrassment. She gave him a kind smile and kicked his shoulder lightly. "Hey, you asked!"

They were silent for a very long moment, before he looked at her again. "Why haven't you spoken to me? I've missed you."

Her smile faltered. How was she supposed to explain the real reason why she hadn't spoken to him? "Call it jealousy Ted. Just call it jealousy."

This confused Teddy to no ends. "Jealousy? Of what?"

Taking a deep, almost stumbling breath, Lily whispered, "Victoire, of course."

This takes Teddy infinitely by surprise, "But… Why?"

"Because I loved you, Teddy. Or I thought it was love. And maybe it was, maybe it still is. Just not the kind of love I know now. You're mine, Ted. You're my Teddy, and sometimes I think you're the only one who understands what it's like to feel everything so vividly. I just… I can't lose that. I just can't lose you. And I know how much Victoire means to you, how much you love her. And you know how much I love both of you, and I guess you're really family now, eh? The point is… I was scared of losing any more time with you. Scared of becoming just some little kid."

It was slow and measured, like fire on her tongue, contained, but just barely. She felt warm and alive, finally saying it aloud. Finally realizing what it was that she feared most. Not mattering. That was her boggart.

Teddy, with those soft jade eyes, slowly climbed beside her, then put an arm around her shoulder. "You will always be my favorite girl, Little L. I'll always be your Ted."

And she believed him. She let herself beam at him and believe him.

Lily looked up at the moon, and realized it was full. "I think your dad is here with us tonight, Teddy. I think he wanted to wish you good lucky before the big day."

Teddy stared up at moon, a soft, familiar smile on his face. "I think he woulda been proud, my dad."

Even in the dark, Lily could see those eyes, morphing into a deep brown with honey golden streaks. His father's color. She reached over, thinking of how lucky she really was. She was alive, after all of the numbness and pain. After everything that happened, she was alive. She had two brothers who loved her more than anything, and would defend her until the day they died. Two parents who couldn't have been prouder. A family who cherished her, and had nurtured her to be the woman she was always meant to be. She had Teddy, who really, in many ways, was the best friend she had always thought he was. She had magic, she had hope, and she had her mother's eyes. But most importantly, Lily had Lysander, a boy who had taught her what love really was, and how to be brave even when it's easiest to be weak.

She took his hand in hers and squeezed gently. "I know he would Ted. I know he would have been proud."

* * *

**Author's Note: **And the next step for this family is down the aisle. These next chapters will be up very quickly. I'll probably post another one tonight and then the final chapter tomorrow. That way, it will have been a true summer project. As usual, you have my love.


	17. The Ceremony

**Author's Note: **I've been aching to write Ted and Victoire's wedding since, well, I wrote their engagement! So, let the ceremony begin!

The next morning came far too quickly for anyone's liking. Dominique and Roxanne were up early as usual, though instead of waking up early so that they could practice Quidditch formations, they arose to begin getting ready to say goodbye to their eldest cousin and sister.

When they reached the bottom landing, everyone seemed rather frantic. Of course, Dominique expected some chaos-if there was one thing Weasleys knew how to do, it was get married-but there was a tinge of horrid frustration.

"Wha's goin' on?" Roxanne yawned sleepily as she stretched, taking her spot beside Lily and reaching over her to get the marmalade.

Fleur, who had an incredibly worried expression on her face and was being comforted by their grandmother and Hermione, spoke in hasty French into her tea, "_Victoire a disparu et elle n'a pas dit à personne où elle est allée!" _

Dominique looked up from where she had rested her head against the table, understanding perfectly what her mother had said. "What? What do you mean she's gone?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, before picking up where Fleur had left off, "Your mother went upstairs to go get your sister and she was… Well, gone. No not or anything. Just gone."

Roxanne's brow creased. "Well is Teddy here? I mean, they could have eloped or something, right?"

Ginny, who had just brought Fleur another round of tea replied, "The boys are all upstairs. None of them know Victoire is gone, Teddy included. We thought perhaps she was just going for a morning walk but…"

Then, there was silence. Dominique stared down at her empty plate, no longer hungry at all. Victoire loved Teddy, in a way Dominique was only now beginning to understand. She would never walk out on him. Or at least, Dominique didn't think she would. It was a very un-Victoire thing to do. Something wasn't making sense.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She recklessly jumped into help. "I'm going to go get Louis. We'll find her."

Her mother looked up at her with watery eyes, then stood shakily. Somehow, despite the tears that threatened to plummet down Fleur's face, she still looked breathtakingly beautiful. She put her hands on either side of her youngest child's face and stared at her for a moment, before kissing either cheek, and whispering, "_Peut-être que c'est vous vos besoins sœurs."_

* * *

Her hand wrapped gently on the door, her voice trying hard to mask the concern in her heart, "Oi! Everyone decent in there?"

There was a series of chuckles as someone called back, "Yeah, yeah, come on in."

Dominique entered into the room filled with Weasleys and Potters, all eating hastily, trying not to get too terribly dirty. She grinned at them all, before finding the face she was looking for. "Louis, Mum needs you. Come with me?"

Louis, who's startlingly blonde hair was pulled back in his usual silky smooth and bangs were hanging over his Veela-esque eyes, looked up at his younger sister. "Of course, Dom."

Together, the two left the room. Louis, however, knew his younger sister much better than the rest of the men in their family. "Alright, what's this about? You're fidgeting."

"Just follow me, would you?" She instantly dropped the act, summoning both of their brooms with a flick of her wand. "Victoire's gone missing, and we have to find her."

Louis stopped, dumbstruck. "Gone? As in she's leaving Teddy?"

Dominique groaned inwardly, turning on her brother, "Listen, Louis, I don't have that answer. But I need you. You're the sensitive one, I'm the brutally honest one. We'll run the Good Cop Bad Cop routine, like we did when we were younger. Got it?"

As usual, taken a bit aback by Dominique's very forward personality, Louis stared at her in befuddled silence, before agreeing and continuing to follow his sister out of the door.

When they took off from the front lawn, they soared speedily upward and outward. "So, any ideas where she might be?" Dominique's voice roared over the sound of the wind.

"Only one place she could be, you know that," Louis responded, shrugging his shoulders and heading north, off the Weasley's property. Dominique instantly realized what he was referring to. As young children, when they had been frustrated with their cousins or any of the rest of their family, still slowly repairing the world the war had left them, they had explored far off the Burrow's land. One day, oh so long ago, they had been roaming around in the hills and had discovered a tiny crevice. While it had appeared unassuming at first, once they had wormed their way through it, the three of them had discovered the most beautiful place they could ever have imagined.

"There it is!" Louis began his dive and Dominique followed. The last time she had been in this place, it was the summer before her first year of school, and she had gotten into a raging argument with Victoire. Ever since then, she had avoided it like the plague.

They touched down, staring at the crevice with apprehension. "I guess I'll go first, then." Dominique watched the hole, memories flowing back like the narrow river below her. With a deep breath, she slowly allowed her body to drop into the underground cave.

Not much had changed in the last seven years since she had been there. The cave was still illuminated by the magical bulbs of light that had been there as long as she could imagine. The water was brilliantly blue, and didn't soak into her clothes at all as she stood there. Bright green, flourishing vegetation covered most of the rocky surfaces, smooth and inviting, a place of solace.

And, unsurprisingly, Victoire sat in the corner, her wand at her side and her eyes watching Dominique. "How did you know where I'd be?"

From behind her, Louis responded, "You're our sister. It's our job to know."

Victoire dropped her gaze, breezily whispering, "I guess I just needed to be by myself. Just needed to think."

Dominique closed her eyes. Her heart practically bled at the idea of hearing her sister so down-trodden, but she didn't want to show it. There was something about this place that still made it hard to be around Victoire. "And what were you thinking about?"

Victoire patted the ground beside her, trying not to meet her siblings' eyes. "Teddy. Me. Us together."

Scowling slightly, Dominique snorted,"What do you mean you together? You've loved Teddy for as long as I can remember."

Shaking her head slowly, her sister replied, "It's not that. I love Teddy completely, but suddenly… I don't know. I'm so unbearably nervous."

Louis removed his shoes and put his feet into the water, cooling himself without getting entirely soaked. "Nervous? That's not like you, Victoire. What's going on with you?"

Finally, she looked up at them, whispering, "I've done everything the way I'm supposed to. I've been a perfect little girl. I've been our mother's carbon copy. But what if that's not who I am? I want the option not to do all of this! I want the option not to get married with out family surrounding me, maybe in some French church in Cannes or Marseilles. I just… I don't want to be this because I have to be."

This all came as a very large shock to Dominique, who for all intents and purposes, had always considered her sister perfect by nature. Louis met Dominique's eyes, before murmuring, "Well, do you want all of those things? Do you really want to elope?"

Victoire thought for a very long moment, before replying quietly, "Well… No. I want Mum and Dad there. I want everyone there. And I want to marry Teddy in the garden that we first met. Maybe I just want the option…"

"You just want to know you could be different, if you wanted." Dominique looked straight into her sister's eyes, and suddenly, she realized how very similar they were. Victoire could merely nod.

"Listen Vic… I've done the whole black sheep bit, and it's not always fun. I envy you constantly, you know. You're the most manicured person I've ever met-"

"And you're the bravest person I'VE ever met!" Victoire exclaimed, cutting her sister off. "What do you look up to me for? Nothing. My own little sister resents me. _Je ne suis rien." _

A weak, trembling silence surrounded them. Louis watched his sisters, as if ready to begin to mop up tears at any moment. But Dominique did feel brave. She also felt that she was the only one who could care for her sister at that moment. "I could never resent you Victoire. I love you. Yeah, sometimes you infuriate me, but I look up to you. You have no idea how much of my time I spend trying to be more like you. Trying to impress our parents the way you do. Trying to make everyone love me the way they love you. You're my role model, Vic. You and Louis both."

Tears were now pouring out of the corners of Victoire's eyes. "Is this why you're here? Because you're afraid that if you do this, I'll resent you?" Victoire's gaze ducked, telling Dominique she was right.

"I just don't want you to think I'm just doing things because I'm supposed to. I want to stick out, like you do. I want to write my own rules."

Louis finally spoke up, "Well, technically, by doing what YOU want, you are writing your own rules. You want to get married where Mum and Dad did. So… You should."

"Louis' right. Do things because you want to, not because you're afraid of what me or anyone else will think of you." Dominique scooted closer to her siblings, weaseling between them and feeling their arms tighten around her.

She closed her eyes and just held onto the moment. For the first time since they were children, all three of them agreed on something.

So there they sat, in their place. No one else had to know about it; it was for them and only them. Louis, the warm hearted, calm and collected one. Victoire, the beautiful and brilliant one. And little Dominique, lithe and fiery, passionate and strong, had never felt more needed than beside them.

* * *

And so, some amount of hours later, Dominique found herself standing at the altar beside Victoire's best friend and across from Teddy, James and Louis. As they all quietly waited for Victoire, time began to slow down.

Dominique looked out over the audience, her eyes finding her family in the front row. Her aunt Gabrielle and her daughter, Olivia, stared back with bright smiles on their faces. Lily leaned on Lysander, tears streaming down her face as he grinned up at them. Scorpius held Rose's hand, which she seemed to be latched onto for dear life. Fred sat between Roxanne, who was covering her mouth with her hand to keep it from looking like she was crying, and Rebecca, whom he was looking at and surely imagining the day when she herself would walk down the aisle. Albus sat beside a girl Dominique recognized as Alice Longbottom, practically drooling all over her bright yellow dress. Molly kept a hand on Henry Zabini's knee, her ring sparkling in the sunlight. Lucy, no longer looking sickly, sat in the middle, surrounded by family who loved her. Lorcan, who was sitting in the very front row, grinned at Dominique as though she were the most beautiful woman on earth. And for a moment, Dominique let herself believe him.

And then, the most elegant, beautiful French tune in the history of the world began to play from the enchanted piano that had been set up away from the aisle. With an exchanged look from Louis, Dominique instantly recognized it as the lullaby Fleur used to sing to them when they were small.

Victoire practically floated down the aisle. She was covered in delicate lace and silk, which wrapped her figure tightly until it released it's hold mid thigh. It was a beautiful dress, one Dominique had picked out herself. Her sister's face was veiled, but you could practically feel the grin shining on her beautiful face.

Somehow, Dominique still managed to feel self conscious. Just before she had slipped into her brides' maid's dress, she had worked a quick spell on a slim piece of her hair, a bright, robin's egg blue. She had always wanted to do it, and she simply couldn't help herself. It matched the color of the wedding and her dress. But under Victoire's eyes, she couldn't help but fear that she would disapprove.

But, when their father had completely walked Victoire down the aisle and given her away, trying not cry, and Teddy lifted the veil, Dominique was shocked at what she saw. Braided into her fabulous up-do that was laced with flowers, Victoire had also colored a long, golden streak, changing it to the exact same color of blue that Dominique had. With a brilliant smile, Victoire turned her head to Dominique, and whispered, "Something blue, and something borrowed, eh Dom?"

It was at this point that Dominique began to cry. Never before had her sister referred to her under that endearment, and never before had she felt so close to her. It was just as well that she would feel that close to her just as she was giving herself to Teddy.

The words of the official presiding over the wedding were a blur as Dominique felt tears drift down her cheeks. She watched as the two of them knelt to the ground, pulling out their wands, and whispering an incantation as two long spindles of magic arose from their wandtips, encircling them, binding them.

When they stood, Dominique looked at her sister, no longer Victoire Weasley, but Victoire Lupin.

As they closed their vows with a single, warm kiss and their family and friends cheered for the long awaited moment, there was a simple glance between sisters. It was something no one else could really understand, something uniquely Dominique and Victoire. The two strands in their hair shined together as tears streamed down their faces.

Dominique smiled, grinned, beamed. She felt as though she was shining in her sister's eyes. She felt needed. But most importantly, Dominique felt brave. And there was something deep in her heart told her that Victoire felt brave in her sister's eyes as well.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A few years ago, my older sister got married and I felt exactly like Dominique did whenever she was around: inadequate. This was a wonderful little chapter fully exploring both Louis and Victoire, and giving Dominique the bravery she's always wanted. One more chapter to go, my friends. You have my love.


	18. The End

**Author's Note: **And, dear readers and friends, I give you the final chapter of _And the World Turned. _Enjoy!

There was really only one thing better than a Weasley wedding, and that was a Weasley reception.

Common morals and inhibitions had steadily been degrading with the amount of firewhiskey and champagne that was being consumed.

At the center of the dance floor, Teddy and Victoire were spinning around each other, laughing at their own absurd dance moves. It was no secret that Teddy Lupin could dance about as well as the giant squid, and Victoire, out of the pure goodness in her heart, made a fool of herself alongside him. Teddy reached for Fleur's hand, pulling her away from her table where she was socializing in sophistication.

"C'mon Fleur, dance with me." Fleur began to giggle, allowing Teddy to spin her about unsteadily.

"We have one last song that's been requested," the DJ waved his wand, a record coming out of his bag and settling into the machine, "dedicated to all of the lovely couples out there. James Potter and Freddie Weasley would like to wish Teddy and Victoire Lupin a very happy honeymoon."

Whether it was the fact that the action was actually incredibly funny or the amount of alcohol being carted around, laughter sprouted in every direction under the canopy. James and Freddie winked at one another, winking and high-fiving.

Teddy swept over to Victoire, kissing her temple as he wrapped an arm across her shoulders. "I'm positively terrified of what those two idiots have planned."

Though, much to Ted's surprise, a soft, sweet love song began to play from the stereo. Teddy chuckled quietly, earning a strange look from Victoire.

"This, my love," Teddy swung her around into his arms, wrapping her up, "is the song that our Jamie Potter taught me to dance to."

And while the thought was probably one of the funniest that Victoire had ever imagined in her life, she was shocked that Teddy's feet actually moved quiet fluidly and gallantly, her body being guided by his. She didn't dare ask who had been the girl during these lessons. She merely closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the slow movement of Teddy's body against hers.

* * *

Arthur guided Molly out onto the floor, dancing with her and treating with her just like he had when they were fifteen years old, as if she was still the most beautiful woman on earth. In his eyes, she still was.

* * *

Bill picked up where Teddy had left off, spinning his wife around slowly and pulling her body tight to his, whispering something infinitely alluring into her ear about how beautiful she looked in her dress, and how much more beautiful she would look out of it when they got home.

* * *

Percy bowed low to Audrey and she gave him that smooth, soft laugh of hers. He wrapped one hand gently around the small of her back, pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes twinkling with mirth behind his glasses. She was once again reminded of the man she had so fallen in love with all those years ago.

* * *

Angelina found George nursing a bit of firewhiskey. She pulled the glass from his hand, a mischievous grin on her face. "Dance with your wife?"

George smirked back, kissing her hand and standing, swiftly spinning and leaning her back dramatically, whispered, "You don't have to ask me twice, love."

* * *

With fumbling feet, Ron worked devastatingly hard to keep both him and Hermione up. She giggled triumphantly, guiding him surreptitiously. "You would think after all the weddings we've attended, we would have gotten better at this."

Ron buried his face in her hair, muttering something that sounded a lot like, "If only you'd saved a dance for me at the Yule Ball. I bet you cursed us forever." The only response he got was a playful slap on the arm and a tinkling laugh.

* * *

Ginny and Harry danced slowly, reverently in the corner, their eyes smiling up at one another. "Your son reminds me more and more every day of Sirius."

Harry gave her a deliciously amused smirk, "My son? Have you seen that bat-bogey hex of his? Looks vaguely familiar in my opinion."

Ginny gave a warm laugh, leaning up to kiss Harry deeply, the moon bathing them in the wonderful peace of the moment.

* * *

Louis protectively eyed Dominique and Lorcan, wondering briefly what they were speaking of. Sure, he was calm, cool and collected, but his little sister was incredibly important to him. He had run to her aid for as long as he could remember. As a passing waiter walked by, Louis snagged another drink, his eyes balanced on the placement of Lorcan's hand.

"Tough night for you, ma' boy?" The weight of a hand slapping him on the back was familiar, and he couldn't help but smile.

Charlie stepped beside his nephew. Their matching burns and scratches concealed by their dress robes reminded Charlie just why he cared for Louis so much. "Yeah, a bit. It's just… It's Dominique, you know?"

Charlie nodded solemnly. "I could face dragons every day for the rest of my life, but watching my little sister fall in love was the hardest and scariest thing I've ever done."

Louis replied simply, sipping his drink, "I'd take work any day over this."

They clinked their glasses together, arms crossed protectively, their faces creased almost identically.

* * *

Across the floor, Dominique and Lorcan were in a world all their own. Their love was quiet, warm. It was the one thing quiet about Dominique, and it suited her well. There was something about being near to Lorcan that had always calmed her down.

"Dom?" His distant voice drew her attention away from her thoughts of him. She had been perfectly content to float there forever, her head against his very broad shoulder and her heart thudding in her chest.

She looked up, making a soft nose deep in her throat, a small smile peaking onto her face as she saw the way he was looking at her.

"Thanks for being my best friend." Lorcan's voice was a whisper. He was trying desperately not to look like a petrified fifteen year old boy in her beautiful, infinitely wise eyes. Little did he know, she thought he was years older than he truly was, and had never been more enchanted by his chocolate hair and violet eyes.

Her lips mere millimeters from his, she whispered, "Thanks for being more than my best friend."

The blush that prickled over his face was enough to make Dominique feel overwhelmed with emotion for Lorcan Scammander, no matter how old he was.

* * *

Molly leaned against Henry. She had never been one for dancing, and he didn't dare disrespect that. "I have something for you."

His husky voice made her skin heat up in that horrible way it always did. She battled with her body, trying to compensate in confidence what she felt in nervousness. "And what would that be, darling?"

His fingers slid against her middle and he opened his palm, allowing her to look down. In his hand he held a tiny silver key. Molly couldn't help but feel confused and she turned her head to look back at him.

Chuckling, Henry murmured, "This little key goes to the apartment I bought last week in Wellington, New Zealand. The one that, if you would be so kind, we will share."

Grinning brilliantly and kissing her fiancé's jaw, she replied simply, "I am so, _so _very kind."

* * *

Freddie smirked down at Rebecca, who was giggling animatedly as she asked, "So you're telling me James, _our _Jamie, taught Teddy how to dance? You're kidding, right?"

Freddie shook his head, snorting slightly. "What's even worse is that _I_ am the one who taught James how to dance." This of course nearly made Rebecca double over as she tried desperately to smother her giggles in his neck.

Incapable of keeping the brilliant grin off of his face, Freddie murmured, "I finally found a girl who thinks I'm as funny as I think I am."

Rebecca pulled back, her eyes twinkling, the words leaving her lips in a wistful breath, "Then marry her."

Trying not to let her notice how terribly he was blushing, Freddie kissed her forehead, replying simply, "Believe me, love, I _will _marry you."

* * *

James strutted by, his voice proud and ridiculously confident, "And then I told him, _Binns,_ I said, _Binns, I refuse to write this essay! _And the bliter just stared at me! Can you believe that? Some say I'm the one who scared him to death, you know."

The two girls who spun simultaneously giggled in a chorus of, "Oh James!"

Oh hell yes, life was delectably wonderful for James Sirius Potter.

* * *

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," Hugo muttered, running his fingers through his curls. It was no secret Hugo tried desperately to be like James, but his affinity for books and his horrible flirting techniques seemed rather ineffective on what Rose had declared, "brainless, crudely motivated hussies." Whatever the hell that was.

"Can you _believe that?_" A voice from behind him practically snarled. Hugo looked over his shoulder, staring at one of the most adorable women he had ever met. Her nose was wrinkled in disgust, despite the fact that it was ever so slightly crooked, and her eyes were a warm color of brown. She was a solid fifteen inches shorter than him, but there was something about her than just made him smile.

"That James Potter, he's such a pig." The girl stepped up beside him, her eyes now on him. Her nose unwrinkled, and she smiled softly at him.

"I couldn't agree more," Hugo chuckled, sticking a hand out, "I'm Hugo Weasley."

She took his hand, smiling lightly, "I'm Irene Krum."

While the name seemed incredibly familiar, Hugo ignored the tugging in his stomach, before asking in that sweet, careful voice of his, "Wanna dance, Miss Krum?"

And for some reason beyond his capabilities of understanding, Irene Krum said yes.

* * *

Scorpius held Rose close to his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of her curls. "You're unbelievably brave, do you know that?"

She smiled against his chest, savoring her favorite compliment. "No love, you're the one who had to be here to formally meet my parents. I think you're the brave one."

He shrugged lightly, that cool drawl that Rose found so alluring wrapping around her ears, "I love you, Rose Weasley."

She looked up at him, their lips meeting briefly, "And I love you, Scorpius Malfoy."

And it didn't matter what anyone else said. It didn't matter how anyone else felt. It didn't matter who their parents had been or what side they had been on.

They wrote their own laws, played their own game. And with him in her arms, Rose saw a beautiful future passing before her.

"Besides, now we get to snog in public," Scorpius kissed Rose's neck when no one was looking.

"Now, is that really appropriate behavior for future Head Boy and Girl?" Rose tried not to sound so breathless.

Scorpius chuckled darkly, sucking a bit of peachy flesh between his lips, murmuring, "Please, please argue with me. It translates so well into the bedroom."

His eyes sparkled as he watched her face, love radiating from him, and savored the gasp and the angry glare that accompanied it, beaming at her and knowing, just knowing that it was all she could do not to snog him then and there.

Oh yes, it was going to be a beautiful future.

* * *

Lysander brushed a bit of hair out of Lily's eyes as he kissed her full on the mouth. They had snuck away from the party for a moment of solitude.

"You know Lils," Lysander bent his forehead to meet her's, that obnoxious grin she loved so well peeling on his face, "My mum has this theory about women who steal a man's heart. Says they have a very powerful connection to Nixel-Headed Waxes. I was just wondering if they're really as powerful as she says."

Lily rolled her eyes, pushing him down the hill and laughing as he rolled willingly, their laughter twinkling like the stars in the sky. "You're mad, Scamander!" Her voice called down to him.

Though she could not see him, she heard him plainly, "Mad for you, Potter!"

She couldn't help but roll down the hill in his wake, feeling her heart swell with every vivid sensation. She would never feel numb again.

* * *

Albus ruffled his hair once more, trying to remember everything James had ever told him about picking up women. He adjusted his robes before sliding into the seat beside Alice Longbottom.

"So Longbottom," he gave her his best attempt at a dazzling grin, pulling a white rose from behind his back and displaying it for her to see, "Dance with me?"

Ally stared at him for a very long moment, appraising him, before leaning forward and whispering in his ear, "Not on your life, Potter."

She took the rose and walked away, her hair flowing down her back, leaving an incredibly charged up young man in her tracks.

"Perk up, son," Harry called to his youngest boy, a grin on his face, "Your grandfather had trouble picking up women too. Just be persistent!"

Albus groaned, allowing his head to slam hard onto the table.

* * *

It seemed as though only Roxanne and Lucy were dateless near the end of the song. Roxanne sighed heavily, readjusting her dress for the umpteenth time.

"Well, Lu, it seems we're the only girls in this bloody family who have yet to snag a man." Roxanne hastily took a long sip of butterbeer, feeling lonely and entirely unwanted.

Lucy smiled over at her cousin, bumping her lightly in the ribs, "On the contrary, Rox. We're the luckiest of all!"

Roxanne's brow furrowed as she looked down at Lucy. "How do you figure?"

Lucy shrugged, her eyes lighting on a boy from across the floor, and she flushed as he winked at her lightly. "We get to shamelessly snog whoever we want."

Dumbstruck, Roxanne stared down at her youngest cousin, her mouth wide open and stunned. And then, laughter erupted from her diaphragm as she hugged the younger girl close, exclaiming, "I KNEW you were my favorite cousin!"

* * *

When the party finally wound down and all the guests had left, there was nothing left but the family, their grandmother led them into the dining room where a huge feast was prepared. Before Teddy and Victoire officially left for their honeymoon, they had promised to join one more family dinner before the younger kids shipped off to Hogwarts.

From where James sat, he couldn't imagine having ever been happier. Their parents were grinning brightly, holding each other's hands and passing food around. It seemed as though, despite every tremendous disaster or explosion that had occurred that fateful summer, all pain was forgotten. Nothing else mattered. They had one another.

He watched Rose argue with Scorpius good-naturedly, before passing her the mashed potatoes and watching her flick some at Scorpius' cheek, laughing happily and triumphantly.

He watched his sister and Lysander sing some ridiculous song, Luna and Rolf grinning at them and conducting ostentatiously.

He watched as his Uncle Ron nearly fell over dead when Hugo responded that he had been dancing with Irene Krum at the reception, and they intended to go out for ice cream one day before returning to Hogwarts.

He watched his best friend charming everything that Rebecca pulled onto her plate, transfiguring it into tiny birds that flew away as soon as it touched the China. This of course made her incredibly frustrated, which resulted in Freddie's charming giggles and a high-five over the table with his father.

He watched Dominique and Lorcan laughing at Charlie and Louis' tandem conversation about dragons, and couldn't stop the smile on his face as he watched Dominique lay her head on Lorcan's shoulder.

He watched Henry charm his Uncle Percy about his standpoint on wizarding law enforcement, watched Molly's eyes shine with pride and adoration.

He watched Roxanne and Lucy snigger privately as they called Dominique's name and sent a Quaffle flying in her direction. Of course, she caught it with a stifling grin.

He watched Teddy stare at Victoire as he had done even when she was younger. He knew the man better than anyone, and knew how very in love with Victoire he was. That was why his hair always turned that particular color of blue that she so loved around her.

He watched Albus complain to their father about Ally Longbottom and her constant rejection.

He watched his grandparent's smile proudly down on their large family.

There was nothing more colorful than a Weasley family dinner. There was nothing louder, nothing happier, nothing rowdier in the world than his family. And he would never admit how much he loved it.

Vaguely, James remembered that odd feeling he had had on the Express and felt a cold chill. He had been correct. Everything had changed this summer. Everything was different. But he knew, despite it all, it had changed for the better.

His smile was bright, reminiscent of his name sake. And as the moon shined high over the Burrow, as the wind whistled and the trees rustled and the laughter rang out into the night, everything seemed perfectly at ease.

And the world turned, ending yet another perfect summer at the Burrow.

The world turned.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So there you have it. Our story has come to an end. It took me the whole summer, but I pray you all loved it as much as I loved writing it. My summer has come to an end, or it will tomorrow morning at 6:30 AM. Please, feel free to comment. Also, if anyone drew any art in companion to this piece, I would love to see it! Just PM me the link. So, until next time, you have my love.

-herointhecrowd


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